


The Fire In Which We Burn

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019/20 [5]
Category: Black Widow (Movie 2020), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Burns, Compromise, Control, Difficult Decisions, Dildos, Eiffel Tower, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fire Powers, First Kiss, Girls Kissing, Handcuffs, Hearing Voices, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Innuendo, Lesbian Natasha Romanov, Lesbian Sex, Manhandling, Mutant Powers, Mutant Reader, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Prison, Rough Kissing, Sassy, Secrets, Sexual Tension, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Villain!Reader, Villains, villain reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: Natasha is sent to bring in the reader, a villain known as Blaze, after she sets the entirety of downtown on fire. When Blaze sees the gorgeous Avenger, she goes willingly but only because it suits her to do so.Over the weeks and months that follow, the pair cross paths - rarely by chance. Blaze becomes addicted to the danger of tempting and teasing an Avenger, testing her limits as she tries to draw the red headed assassin back over to her side. Natasha finds herself giving into the passion, searching for a release, chasing Blaze because, however she tries to hide it, she loves the thrill and the danger just as much.As they willingly fan the flames between them, an unexpected friendship and camaraderie develops alongside their physical relationship. However, still on opposite sides of the fight, they must each decide whether it is worth risking the fallout and the inevitable burn or to leave while they still can.Enemies to lovers to friends.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov (Marvel) & Reader, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019/20 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609546
Comments: 36
Kudos: 197





	1. Chapter 1

"On the ground! You are surrounded!"

For once they weren't lying, although after the stunt you'd just pulled anything less would have been an insult. There were three agents on a nearby roof, their little red dots flickering over your chest (well, two were; one was aimed somewhere near your liver and you wondered whether this was the sniper's first mission. Just your luck to be taken out by a rookie). 

Six agents were closing in on you, approaching from the sides. Four were toting non-lethal pistols but your attention was on the two coming from the left, each of whom were armed with the killing kind. Two more were moving in from behind when the woman in charge of the operation stepped forward, red hair pulled back in a tight bun. 

"Agent Romanoff, what an honour. I don't like your hair like that." You lifted your hands above your head, giving a dramatic bow which earned you nothing more than a sharp glare from the red head. Righted, you dared to take a step closer and asked, "Have you come to take me away? Lock me up somewhere terribly scary?"

"Yes."

Oh, she was no fun at all! There you were in your best coat, half of downtown ablaze because of you, and the beautiful, tremendously sexy Avenger that had come to bring you in wouldn't even exchange pleasantries, let alone some sarcastic banter. What was the world coming to? 

With a dramatic sigh, you got down on your knees and held your hands behind your skull. In other circumstances, you might have fought your way out but you weren't in the mood to risk a bullet to the heart today. There would be other chances to die in grand villainous style; it wasn't like SHIELD had a prison capable of holding you anyway. 

"You should be on your knees for me." 

Already bored of this, your mind was wandering, imagining just how pleasurable that might be. The cold, heartless Black Widow at your feet, a willing prisoner, ready to serve her mistress however she could. You laughed at the absurdity of the thought - Romanoff would never yield so easily, but then perhaps the struggle was half of the fun - but tucked the fantasy away in the corners of your mind nonetheless. The next week or two in prison would be lonely, after all. 

Romanoff approached, confident but wary. Rightly so. She pulled your arms down then snapped a cold pair of handcuffs around your wrists. You had no time to ponder how this scenario might fit into your fantasies for a sharp pain shot up your arm, a needle injecting some kind of liquid into your bloodstream. 

"No need to drug me, Agent Romanoff. I'd have come willingly for you."

You blinked a few times, refocusing on her face as she strode back into view. Tapping a device on her wrist, no doubt summoning a transport unit to collect you, Romanoff barely looked at you as she said, "It inhibits your powers."

You huffed, a little offended. Just because you were in cuffs didn't mean you were any less dangerous and yet there she was acting as though you weren't even there. So rude. You'd have to teach her some manners one day. "I'm not stupid. I know what it does. Once upon a time, I was on the team that developed it."

"Get up."

Romanoff grabbed your arm and pulled you roughly to your feet. You were suddenly quite grateful for her assistance as the entire world had become blurry and if asked you wouldn't be able to differentiate between up and down. Obviously the formula was far stronger than you remembered. 

As you veered off to the side, Black Widow yanked your arm with such force that you were certain you felt your shoulder pop. The only saving grace was that the serum contained a sedative meaning you wouldn't feel the pain until it wore off. 

"Slow down."

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," she hissed, dragging you through the group of agents towards a nondescript van. The doors were flung open by two armed guards and Romanoff all but threw you inside. In any other circumstances, her show of strength would have been very attractive. Now, though, you were too busy fighting to stay upright to properly ponder it. 

You leaned back against the cool wall of the van as Romanoff chained you to the floor, eyes drifting shut. Another wave of calmness rolled over you, the serum definitely working. You listened carefully to what the agents were saying around you, their hushed tones amplified inside the metal cage. 

"Protocol states you must have at least one armed guard with you, Agent Romanoff."

"She's off her head, I'll be fine."

"Half of downtown is on fire because of her. I don't think -"

"I really don't care what you think. I've told you I can handle her and I will."

Her words cut through the younger agent's arguments like a knife. There was no room for argument and a few moments later the door clicked shut - once, twice, three times as each extra security lock was clicked into place - leaving you and Black Widow alone. 

There was something about that no nonsense tone that left your heart fluttering. You wondered, if she spoke to you that way, whether you'd do whatever she said without argument or risk fighting back. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips; it was definitely the latter. 

You opened your eyes and glanced towards her, feeling the grin grow even wider. Gone was the tight bun. Her gorgeous red locks now hung freely around her face, just the way you liked. Your fingers twitched, desperate to reach up and run them through the silky soft strands. One day, you thought wistfully. 

"Why are you smiling?" 

"Because of you, obviously. You look beautiful." 

Romanoff's expression remained cold but you saw straight through the facade. There, just for a moment, you saw the way her lips curled up, savouring the compliment. As quickly as it appeared, though, it was gone and she said stiffly, "You told me that you wouldn't do anything like this again, Blaze."

No lead up, straight into the lecture. You sighed, your eyes rolling backwards. This was the last thing you wanted to do today. "You don't have to tell me again. I've heard this enough times, Natasha."

"And yet you continue to cause havoc. The only reason that I didn't bring you in last time was because you swore to me -"

"Why _did_ you take my word? I am, last time I checked, on SHIELD's radar as a big bad."

"Not that big," Natasha dead panned. "I'm serious, Blaze. This was your last chance. I'm in the shit for letting you off last time. You swore that there would be no more fires. That you would stop these little _outings_ and that I wouldn't hear your name again."

"I tried! No, really, I did. I haven't robbed a bank for over a month now! And I did what you said and got a 'real' job but it's so boring! All the people who think they're important deserved to be taken down a few notches. They pushed and pushed and expected me to take it. I made sure that no one was in the surrounding buildings." 

You looked to Natasha, hoping for some kind of acknowledgement but received only a blank stare. Didn't she realise that you were trying to be better? Driven to make her understand, you said, "I'm trying my best, okay? It's not easy to jump on to the good path and let this life go. Plus life is just so dull. I needed a little excitement and they deserved it. Anyway, no one got hurt." 

"That's not the point."

"It should be! So I set a few buildings on fire and scorched a billionaire's favourite painting. What does it matter?"

"Blaze…"

"No, come on. I wanna know." 

You clenched your fists, blood beginning to boil. How could she sit there and claim the moral high ground after everything that she had done? While her past before SHIELD was shrouded in mystery, her activities since were easy to come by - if you were willing to dig through the files. And you were. You had read everything you could about Black Widow and had seen with your own eyes the damage she was capable of. 

"Blaze, calm down."

All you had to do was look at the desolation that the Avengers left in their wake. How many people had died in the name of the good fight? What damage had they caused in chasing and capturing those who acted against them, following a different path for (occasionally) noble reasons? What right did she have to sit there and judge you when you were only fighting against the evil in your own life?

"Blaze!"

Natasha's exclamation tore through your anger and you were suddenly aware of the heat building in your core. You glanced down to your hands, shining brightly as fire erupted from your fingertips. The intense flames crawled over your skin, blistering as it climbed. The metal bonds, now shining red in the heat, seared your wrist, the acrid smell of burning flesh filling your nostrils. 

But it was the fear in her eyes that finally quenched the fire, dulled your fury. Her hand had gone straight to her side, without hesitation, ready to pull a gun on you at a moment's notice. And you knew that she would aim straight for the head. There was no doubting it. Natasha was scared. You couldn't bear to have her look at you that way, to see you as the monster you knew you were. 

You took a deep breath and willed the flames away. Your now blackened skin continued to glow until the embers flickered away to nothing. The heat died away but the fire still raged in your heart, although it was mixed with a very heavy dose of shame.

Unable to meet her gaze, you closed your eyes once again and fell back against the wall of the van, the odd vibrations from the engine calming you slightly. "Your superpower antidote needs work."

Finding no humour in the situation, Natasha ignored your attempt to lighten the mood and switched back into business mode. Faint sounds of shuffling filled the van as you assumed she pulled her hair back up into place. Stiffly, she said, "You are to be taken to a SHIELD facility where your threat level will be assessed. You will then be removed to a separate location and held until further notice."

"We'll see about that," you hummed.


	2. Chapter 2

You wrinkled your nose at the scent of burning flesh, a depressingly familiar smell, and you squinted hard as you fought to control the fire on your fingertips. Precise work like this wasn't exactly your forte; you tended to work with far bigger, bolder brushstrokes. Sneaking around was for people like her, not you. 

The effort required to sustain a fire so hot was incredible draining and your hands trembled as the fire became harder to control. Sweat rolling down your forehead, a hole in the glass opened up just large enough to fit your hand through. You unlocked the window, the molten glass dripping onto your arm and further searing your flesh. Through clenched teeth, you edged it open and clambered through, falling into her room with a loud thud. 

So much for the element of surprise. 

There was no alarm, the only sounds from the distant city drifting in on the wind. You suspected that her security system was so advanced that she'd been alerted to your presence the moment you stepped foot within a mile of the place, something you should probably have thought of in the first place. Still, it was too late now. 

The floorboards creaked under foot as you crept through the small cabin, opening drawers and peeking beneath the thick piles of reports. It was rustic, not how you'd imagined her style at all. A temporary accommodation, then. And yet, as you conjured a small burning orb in your palm to light the room, illuminating a part of her life that you supposed few got to see, there were signs of this place being lived in. 

A handful of personal effects but no photographs. Memories from places visited or trophies collected after successful missions? An incongruous record of all the harm she'd done, a permanent reminder of the lives she'd wrecked or gifts from the ones she'd saved? 

You ran your fingers over the edge of the fireplace, perfectly clear from dust or dirt of any kind, and picked up a plush toy with your free hand. The plastic fur melted under your touch, your body still channelling incredible amounts of heat. It was far sharper a scent than burning flesh, but you'd long since gotten used to the latter, being burnt alive an unfortunate side effect of your powers. 

"Put the tiger down and turn around. Slowly."

Setting the singed plush back on the fireplace, you did as she asked, hands up in the air. The flame in your palm spluttered as you directed it towards Natasha, the light slowly floating through the air. The safety on her pistol clicked and you immediately stopped the fireball in its path, halfway between you. 

"I'm not here to hurt you," you said, taking in the lines of her face. Perhaps a trick of the flickering light, Natasha looked tired and not just because you'd caught her in the middle of the night. There was a disconnect in her demeanour, physically present but thoughts far away. It bothered you more than it probably should. 

"Understand if I find that difficult to believe, Blaze." Despite her words, she lowered the weapon. She even went so far as to set it down on the bookshelf beside her, although her expression was still guarded and you knew she had another weapon somewhere on her person. What fun it would be to search her for it, you thought absentmindedly. "What do you want?"

"To see you, obviously." 

Sensing an almost peaceful truce in the air, however temporary, you crossed the room and fell onto her sofa. The cushions sighed beneath you and you sunk into the soft seat, head falling back on the rest. You'd almost forgotten how comfortable a seat could be. The one in your cell had consisted of a few thick metal pipes welded together with a thin wooden board to rest on. This was luxury of the highest kind compared to that. 

With mere thought, you drew the floating fireball closer to you. Natasha reluctantly followed and perched herself on the edge of the sofa, maintaining a large distance between you. Twirling the orb of light with your fingers, pretty shadows falling across the room, you said, "Prison was just as dull as life on the outside. I was expecting fights and bloodshed but the others were so well behaved. You made me think it would be fun."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"I only stayed put because you kept visiting me. But then when you stopped coming to see me I figured it was up to me to find you instead."

"I was busy. You'll have to go back, Blaze."

You rolled your eyes, not even a little bit amused by the suggestion. "That isn't going to happen."

"You don't have much of a choice."

"I'll be good."

Natasha shook her head, lips pressed tightly together. "I don't believe you."

The sofa groaned as you shifted your weight, shuffling over to Natasha and closing the gap she'd so carefully put between you. She held her head high, her expression steady, fearless, but you felt how she pulled away. You saw her hand slip behind her, ready to pull a weapon from between the cushions. Too bad you'd already moved it. 

She met your grin with disdain. "I want that back. One of my favourite knives."

You reached into your jacket and pulled the blade out, a beautiful creation indeed. Perfectly balanced, lacking in any ornamentation at all, it was simplicity at its absolute finest. No wonder she favoured it so much. 

You draped your arm around her shoulder, shuffling right up against her as you pressed the blade into her throat. She breathed sharply as your nose brushed against her neck, your fingers tracing slow patterns up the outside of her thigh. The subtle scent of her shampoo filled your nostrils as you twirled a strand of her gorgeously soft hair around your finger. 

The very fact that you had the unflappable Black Widow holding her breath, a delicious blush spreading up her neck, turned you on. You watched how she responded to every touch with intrigue, wondering just how far you could push her before she regained her senses and stopped your little game. Oh, the nights you'd passed in prison imagining how you'd make her cry your name. 

"You love it, don't you? Dancing on the edge like this. Giving up your control." Met with silence, you pressed the blade harder against her soft skin, just enough to split the skin. "Tell me you love it."

Natasha pressed her lips together in a show of defiance but you could feel her heart racing at the base of her throat. With a sigh, you dropped the knife into her hand and leant back, your arm still draped around her shoulder. "You don't have to play games with me. You could have gotten out of that with ease. Any second rate SHIELD agent could have. I know you enjoy it. Tell me you do. Go on."

"I have to take you in, Blaze."

Biting back your frustration, you smiled sweetly - not unlike a lioness baring her teeth - and said, "You won't, though. See, Natasha, I had a lot of time to think in isolation. I know why you let me go the first hundred times and it's why you'll let me go tonight, too. You think I can be better. You want me to be."

Natasha stabbed the arm of her sofa with the knife, twisted it as you played with her hair, warm fingers brushing against her skin at every opportunity. She almost leaned into your touch before catching herself in the act. "You're wrong."

"Not on this."

"You've proven me wrong so many times. Why should I believe you now?"

"Because I… I want to change. I want to be better, like you. I've had enough of this life and I want out." Your words were shaky, uncertain, dripping with desperation and pain. "I'll try harder, I'll do whatever I have to. I just can't go back to prison. I'll be good. Please, help me be better. Help me be good."

Unmoved by your performance, the Black Widow stared at you expectantly, waiting for the real reason. You wiped the tear from your eye and shrugged. It was worth a try. You shifted beside her and lifted a hand to her face, heart tightening slightly when she drew back again. There was that fear, again, as you brushed her perfectly smooth skin with your rough, charred fingers. 

"I'll only ever hurt you if you ask nicely," you said, lightly scratching her cheek with your nails as you drew back. Not hard enough to leave a mark, although you were tempted. What an honour it would be to mark such a beautiful face as your own. 

You dropped your hand back to your lap and sighed. Of course, she'd never want to be touched by a monster like you. "I've got a ride to Europe. I'm going to disappear and start again. New life. No more crime."

"I don't believe you."

Anger bubbled up inside you and the floating orb lost a little of its cohesion. You were many things but a liar was rarely one of them. She had to have known that by now; after all, you'd answered every single one of her questions truthfully during your incarceration. You had always made it clear that you had no intention of staying put in that dingy little prison. How could she still doubt you? 

The intense red ball of flames flickered white and you had to dig your nails into your palm to bring it back under control. The light burned your retinas as you stared into the bright centre, breathing slowly until the restless fire in your veins quietened. 

Without a word, you pushed yourself off the sofa and headed towards the window. As you expected, you made it less than a few steps before Natasha caught your wrist, tugging you back towards her. Nervously, an emotion that did not suit her at all, she cupped your cheek and murmured, "I want to believe you. I do."

"Best not to." 

You mirrored her movement, held your fingers over her cheek, an entirely different kind of fire burning through your veins as she leaned into your touch. Yielded an infinitesimally small part of her control, willingly making contact, enough to make you believe that this wasn't so hopeless a cause after all. A dangerous one, for certain, but one you were more than willing to risk your life for. 

Who made the first move, you couldn't say. All you knew was that her lips were on yours, soft and sweet as she kissed you. Your hand immediately went to her hair, tugging on the red strands. You swallowed her moans, the desperate, needy sounds igniting a heat in your core. Her hands roamed over your body, cupped your breasts and pulled you closer until there was no telling where you ended and she began. 

Her hands snaked down your arms and by the time she reached your wrists you were sure. You shoved her away, your suspicions confirmed. There in her hands, a pair of handcuffs. A harsh smile on your face, the bright orb behind your head now a blinding blue, you said through gritted teeth, "While I love a bit of bondage as much as the next girl, I'll have to pass on those. I already told you I'm not going back to that prison."

"Blaze…" 

"Don't take another step." 

You couldn't risk her getting any closer, didn't trust yourself to be around her anymore. Sparing a thought for the cabin, wishing there had been another way, you released your control on the orb of light. It fell to the ground and a wall of flames rose between you. 

The heat was immense, growing stronger with every second as the flames engulfed the wooden flooring. Natasha instinctively jumped backwards, scrambling away from the heat as she sought the best way out. "Blaze!"

You grabbed the charred plush tiger from the fireplace and headed for the door. "Don't try to follow me, Natasha."

"You'll regret this!" she shouted. "I'll find you!"

Swinging a leg out the window, the cool night air was a refreshing assault on your system. You glanced back into the flames, barely able to make out Natasha's silhouette against the thick smoke, with a smile on your face, hopeful that she would indeed follow through on that promise.


	3. Chapter 3

"Took you long enough."

"You're a difficult woman to track down, Blaze."

That was rather the point of going on the run and keeping a low profile but you'd left enough clues for Natasha to follow. Hidden suggestions of where you might be heading next, abstract ideas that only she would be smart enough to understand. SHIELD, for all their money and resources, were packed with pen pushing fools. 

There were only a handful of agents bright enough to track you down and it was a relief that Black Widow was the one that found you and not the ever aggressive Melinda May. Although, you had to admit, if you weren't playing this game with Natasha that May would definitely be your second choice at SHIELD. 

"How's the house?" You twisted round on the bench, elbow resting precariously on the hardwood back, and took in Natasha's demeanour. She was tense - not a surprise, really - but there was a softness in her body, something that could almost be confused for defeat if you hadn't known better. 

"Burned to the ground in a big pile of ash. Thanks for that."

You smiled sweetly. You'd done her a favour, really. That was never going to be the kind of life for her. People like Natasha, like you, didn't settle down in fairytale cabins in the woods. Nights under the stars were beautiful now and again but stripping back to be closer to nature wasn't your idea of a peaceful life. Dodgy wi-fi, temperamental water supplies and all those pesky little flies? No, she was fooling herself if she ever thought that suffering was what would make her happy. 

The funniest thing was that she knew it too. It was right there in her eyes, those beautiful, intense pools of green, clear for anyone to see. Or perhaps not anyone. Natasha hid her emotions with an incredible facade, a carefully crafted mask that protected her as well as any suit of armour could. Beneath that, though, there were glimmers of truth. After all, the best lies were built on solid foundations. It was just a matter of teasing apart the fact from the fiction to reveal what she really felt. 

"Do you fancy a walk?"

"Why?"

"This park is beautiful," you shrugged. "If this is to be the last time I see it, then I should like to remember more than just the shitty little sandbox that children piss in."

Unable to fault that logic, Natasha rose to her feet and you drifted back onto the path together. It was no grand national park, you conceded, but the trees here were full of life. They swayed in the summer breeze, the wind whistled beautifully through the thick cover overhead like a hallowing song. 

Yellow and pink flowers lined the path, carefully cultivated over years by the community to bring light and joy to an otherwise depressing existence. You crouched down and plucked a particularly pretty peony from the flower bed - soft white petals, edged in bright pink. Twisting it between your fingers, you asked lightly, "Did you think about me?"

"I'm heading the team tasked with bringing you in."

"That doesn't really answer the question." You spun to face her, walking backwards to avoid breaking your gaze. You tucked the flower behind her ear and smiled brightly. A sight you'd never imagined to see: the lethal Black Widow sporting a soft flower in her hair, skin shimmering in the sun like some ridiculous Snapchat filter. A glimpse into a false life, just another kind of false mask to hide behind. But this was real and she was beautiful. 

She didn't flinch as you trailed your rough fingers down her cheek. They'd long since healed over, no longer dark and charred, but the skin never truly grew back properly. It was hard to the touch, callused and uneven, and you felt little of the light brush against Natasha's skin. It was in your chest, in your heart, that you felt the burning fire, the desire to truly touch her, to have her lose herself in your touch. 

"Did you think about me when you were alone? Did you dream of us, together?" Your fingers dropped lower, tracing a line down her throat. She swallowed deeply despite herself, although out of fear or lust you couldn't say. "Go on. Tell me you did. Please?"

"You promised no more little jobs."

You sighed, hand falling back to your side as you hopped back into step with her. If that was how she wanted to play it, fine. Business, first. Pleasure, second. "I stuck true to that. For some reason, arson doesn't pay so well over here in Europe."

"Don't give me that shit. I know you're responsible for the burning of Hammer Tech's Germany lab."

"Well, that wasn't a little job, was it? That was a big job. Lots of money in that one."

"Blaze!"

Mirroring her exasperated tone, you groaned, "Natasha! Honestly, it's not that big of a deal. No one was hurt and they'd have gotten in without me anyway. I only went along for a cut of the share."

"You swore that you'd go straight. That you'd disappear and stop all of this."

That was such a good opening, almost too good to miss, but you bit back the retort that you were as far from straight as a bendy ruler. It clearly wasn't the time. Instead, you grabbed her arm and pulled her through a set of thick bushes into a hidden clearing. There were lots of these around the park, perfect for when you needed a moment's privacy. A horny bunch, these Europeans. Always looking for somewhere sneaky for a quick rough and tumble.

Still time for that, you thought hopefully. 

In the small space, your body was pressed almost entirely up against Natasha's. Your chests moved together with each breath, faster, deeper than they ought to be from a gentle afternoon stroll. Her nose brushed against yours as the delicate scent of her perfume wafted around you both. It blended perfectly with the floral tones that drifted on the air from the gardens, a slight earthiness which only served to drag you deeper into her web. 

You wet your lips, her gaze instinctively flickering down and lingering on your mouth as you spoke. The wall of shrubbery around you was close enough to keep you upright but you balanced yourself with hands on Natasha's waist nonetheless. She didn't seem to mind, tilting her hips into yours and pressing a hand to the small of your back. "I needed the money, alright?"

"For what?"

"My nephew started at Yale last year. School fees are expensive."

A strange expression flickered across Natasha's face, one you might have missed if not for this extreme proximity. Hope? Pride? You weren't certain. Whatever it was ignited a warmth in your chest, though. You should have shut that down immediately - villains, if that was how you were perceived, shouldn't preen at a hero's praise - and yet you couldn't bring yourself to ignore how nice it felt to have Natasha look at you that way. 

Quickly replaced by disbelief, Natasha dug her fingertips harder into your skin. "I've read your files a hundred times. You don't have any family."

"Of course I have a family. Everyone has a family somewhere. When I worked for SHIELD, I had them struck from the record. You weren't my only friend there, Natasha. I knew that one day I'd have to leave and called in my favours to ensure that they would be safe from the fallout." 

Your tone darkened, the realisation of what you'd just risked hitting you square in the chest like a tonne of bricks. A warning of your own, fingers almost burning through the fabric of her shirt, you hissed, "If you go after them, if you try to use them in any way against me, you will regret it."

"I can't promise that."

"You will promise me that."

She kissed you, then. An apology. You responded immediately, grabbed the tips of her hair - she remembered to leave it down the way you liked - and exposed her throat. You kissed the spot at the base of her neck where you'd held a knife to her on your last meeting, sucked a new mark onto her pale skin.

Natasha moaned, the quiet sound almost lost beneath the bustle of the outside world but it hung in the air between you, a dirty admission that she wanted this more than she could possibly say. Your hips came together, her leg nudging between yours, a delicious pressure against your core, and you kissed her again until you could hardly breathe.

You pushed her back against the shrubs, trapped her body against the bushes. Your fingers curled around her throat while the other cupped her breast, thumb tracing the soft curve as you pinned her down. She could have broken out of your hold at any moment but she didn't. That submission was perhaps the best gift you had ever received.

"Do not go after my family. Come for me all you like but if you lay a finger on them, this thing between us will mean nothing. Understand?"

She nodded, her green eyes never once leaving yours. You brushed your lips against hers a final time and reached behind you. Plucking the little tracker disk from the inside lining of your jacket you pinned it on the collar of her shirt and grinned. "I'm not so easily distracted, love. Try harder next time."

"Blaze," Natasha breathed, hand jumping to her neck as you released your hold. 

It couldn't have hurt that much - you'd been careful; experience had taught you the best way to choke a woman - so you wondered if the gentle way she caressed her skin had a different meaning. There wasn't time to waste and yet you found yourself hovering in the bushes to hear her out. "Yes, dear?"

"I will bring you in."

"And I'll simply break out again. Don't look at me like that, Nat. I know you love this game as much as I do." You leaned in, once again sharing the same air. "Go on. Just this once. Admit it. There's no one else around to hear. For me? Please?"

Natasha pressed her cheek to yours, her lips soft against your neck. Your eyes flickered shut, savouring the fleeting brush of her fingers around your waist as she whispered, "You've got an hour before SHIELD turn up at your house. Don't let them find you."

By the time you opened your eyes, Natasha was gone. The only sign that she had ever been there was the peony laid carefully on the ground at your feet.


	4. Chapter 4

How does that old saying go? When things seem too good to be true, then they probably are. That was certainly circling your head today.

It was a few weeks since Natasha had let you run. You’d made your way through multiple countries, circled back round and ended up in France for no other reason than you’d always meant to come here on holiday and never gotten around to it. Being on the run from the government was basically the same as taking an extended break, right?

The weather was glorious, especially in this little town by the sea. You loved the ocean, never felt calmer than when you were near it. The gentle ebb and flow of the waves as they crashed against the shore, the cool splash of the water as it licked your ankles. It eased the fire inside your soul, helped keep your head level in these uncertain times. 

No one knew you here. That was the best part of hiding out in a holiday town. People came and went and the locals hated the tourists so much that they never paid them any more attention than was needed to earn a quick buck. In a sea of ever changing faces, you were invisible. You paid in cash, never with anything above a twenty euro note, and never drew attention to yourself.

A small town, there was almost no crime and the locals, despite their hatred of the noisy holidaymakers, were trusting beyond anything you’d find back home. Twenty seven CCTV cameras in the entire town; you knew, you’d counted twice. So long as you stayed away from the highstreet and kept to the shadows on the beach, it was easy to stay off the grid and away from prying eyes. 

And yet, somehow, Natasha still found you. 

The envelope sat on your kitchen counter, a short note beside it. There was nothing traditionally elegant about Natasha’s handwriting. Each letter was constructed with sharp lines and the bare minimum of deviation. A spy’s hand, no doubt: very little of character or, more importantly, forensic worth; could almost have been printed on a typewriter and very difficult to identify to any one person. 

Despite that, though, there was a fluidity to the letters. A carefulness in their placement showed the time she’d taken to keep the note neat. The final full stop which looked too much like an ‘x’ for you to ignore. 

You traced the words for the hundredth time before crumpling up the paper in your hands and setting it on fire. The ashes drifted down onto the countertop in a neat pile. While the words were gone, the evidence destroyed and completely unrecoverable, you could still see them when you closed your eyes. It was as if they had imprinted themselves on the back of your eyelids, glowing brightly in the dark. 

A quiet ticking filled the kitchen and you made your decision. Without another thought on the matter, you turned and swiped your purse, keys and phone from the table. You didn’t need to pack a proper overnight bag; there was enough money in your various accounts after the Hammer job to be able to afford some new clothes when you got there. The very thought of shopping for a new dress in the home of fashion filled you with a childish glee. 

Waving down a taxi, you asked the driver politely: “Pouvez-vous me conduire à la gare?” He nodded and you slipped into the cab, nerves bubbling up for the first time in years. This was dangerous, beyond stupid. And yet you couldn’t quite bring yourself to care because the possibility that this was real, that Natasha genuinely wanted to see you was beyond words. 

You paid the man when you arrived at the station and gave him a healthy, but unmemorable, tip. The station was uncomfortably busy, far too many people - and too many cameras - but thankfully there was no queue at the ticket office. Tapping your fingers anxiously against the counter, desperate to get out of sight, you said, “Un billet pour Paris, s'il vous plait.”

***

Even in the height of summer, Paris was cold at midnight. It probably didn’t help that you were stood on the Eiffel Tower and exposed to all the wind that you wouldn’t have normally felt at ground level. Of course, the great benefit of having literal fire burning through your veins was that you were far better able to cope with the cold than most people. As such, when the three remaining people were weighed down by their coats, you were quite happy to stand there looking, if you did say so yourself, fabulous. 

Shopping in the capital was an absolute dream. Shopping anywhere was, really, when you had money to spare. You’d flittered through the boutiques, savoured the doting attitudes of the sales people and spent what had to amount to hundreds of dollars on tonight’s outfit. Only the best for Natasha Romanoff. 

Your shirt was a sheer lace that clung to your skin, so delicate that it was practically see through save for a few carefully placed flowers. The light fabric had a soft sheen to it and it shimmered with the lights of Paris below, complimented by a teardrop necklace you’d found. The gems were a rare type of opal that looked as if a master witch had captured the very essence of fire within them. 

Dark trousers hugged your thighs before flaring out at the bottom, giving the wonderful illusion of being a light and airy skirt. You paired the outfit with flat shoes, elegant but practical should things take an unfortunate turn for the worst. 

You rest your elbows on the rail and stared out across the city, still buzzing despite the late hour. Up here, the sounds of the world below were drowned out by the wind, a beautiful escape from the realities of life. The perfect place to conduct a clandestine meeting with the woman you were supposed to hate. 

Time both dragged and raced as you waited for her to show. So rude, being late to your own secret rendezvous. Truth be told, once the attendant shooed away all the other visitors apart from you and silence fell across the tower, you almost lost hope. Waiting for an entire team of SHIELD agents to storm up the stairs or out of the lifts and take you away, you were more than a tad surprised when Natasha appeared, alone. 

Too proud to admit defeat to the wind, or perhaps in the name of style, she also went without a coat but at least had the benefit of a thick jumper to keep her warm. Either way, she looked beautiful. The fabric clung to her body and showed her curves wonderfully. Her confident step faltered momentarily as she took in your appearance and you knew that it had been money well spent just to see that look of wonder in her eyes. 

“You’re late.”

Natasha took her space beside you and folded her arms across the rail, staring out into the distance. “Ticket office was closed. Had to let myself in.”

Although that may well have been the truth, you knew that wasn’t the reason for her tardiness. “For someone who lies for a living, you really are rather bad at it.”

“Last minute mission briefing,” she admitted. “Final preparations for your capture.”

“You make me sound like an animal. How long until they arrive?”

She shook her head and turned to you, wetting her lips. “They don’t know you’re here. I told them that our meeting place was across the city by Montmartre.”

“You’re lying.”

“I might not be.”

You laughed, genuinely considering taking the chance on her words being true. Foolish. Incredibly dangerous. Beyond exciting. That was what decided it, in the end. These past weeks, and even the months before that, had been so dull. Constantly on the run, checking your shadow at every turn for any sign of SHIELD. It was exhausting and just drained the fun out of everything. 

The only time you truly felt alive was when you were with Natasha, dancing on the edge of what was possible. Testing the fire, building the flames until it was too late to step away. That was why you were here. That was why you’d stay. 

Twisting so your back was against the rail, you fought to maintain some air of casualness when all you really wanted to do was press your body against Natasha’s and kiss her senseless. “Of all places, you had to choose the Eiffel Tower? This feels like we should be on some sort of romantic getaway. Celebrating our anniversary or something equally benign.”

“I’ll remember to bring the wine next time, then.”

“Thank you for not mentioning my family to SHIELD.” You weren’t sure where that came from but also weren’t surprised that it slipped out amid the silence. Every day you’d checked in on your brother and nephew (indirectly, of course) to make sure that they hadn’t been dragged into anything untoward. The relief you felt knowing that they were free, blissfully unaware of your actions was a weight off your chest.

Natasha nodded, short and sharp. “I knew I’d find you without bringing them into the mess.”

It sounded so professional, so certain and almost arrogant but her brisk attitude didn’t anger you in the slightest. Not when the unspoken words came through so much louder: There are some lines that should never be crossed and family is one of them. It was kind, a choice she didn’t have to make. A potential, sure fire way to get your attention and bring you in but an option she clearly never truly considered. 

“Come with me,” you whispered. It was a distant dream but you hoped that speaking it into existence might be the miracle you needed. You wrapped your arms around her waist and pressed your body flush against hers. The delicate hairs on the back of her neck stood as you breathed softly into her ear. “We could make a fresh start somewhere. Fight the bad in our own way.”

What a team you would make. You knew that she didn’t always believe in what SHIELD were trying to do - or, rather, the way they tried to achieve their goals. Together, unhindered by their rules and restrictions, you could pick your battles, fight them in the way that suited you and work for the people rather than the corporations that paid the bills. 

Your powers and her knowledge, you would make an unstoppable team. And it wasn’t as if she’d always walked in the light. Natasha knew how to dance on the line of balance between what was necessary and what was right. Sometimes you had to do bad things for the greater good. You knew, deep down, that she understood that. It was why she could never truly see you as the villain SHIELD painted you to be. 

“I can’t.” She turned her head aside but made no further attempt to escape your light hold. “I can’t be a vigilante like you.”

“Sure you can.” Sliding your hand lower, settling between her thighs, you continued to trace a line of kisses along her jaw. She squeezed her legs together, looking for more pressure than you were willing to yield, and gasped when you nipped at the sensitive skin on her neck. “Be good,” you murmured. 

Her eyes flickered shut as your hands roamed across her beautiful body. Breast heavy in your hand, Natasha squirmed at the sudden pressure of your fingers above her clit. Just enough for her to feel but too soft to truly be felt through the layers of clothing that covered her. As she rubbed her ass against your hips - in distinctly deliberate motions, you thought with a grin - you pushed her harder into the handrail and said, “I know you want to.”

You delighted in the tiny change in her breathing, her gasps shallower and faster as you further explored her body. Her head lolled back against your shoulder, the vibrations of her gentle hum rumbling in her chest. Almost sadly, Natasha breathed, “If things were different…”

“What would you do?” The lights of Paris twinkled as you toyed with the waistband of her trousers, practically able to taste her desire as you kissed her neck. 

“For one, I’d let you fuck me. I know you want to.”

Your hands paused, bothered by something you couldn’t name. She was always so careful with her words, crafted such beautiful lies with precision and accuracy. Pulling back ever so slightly, the cool breeze on your face a sharp slap compared to the heat of her body, you asked, “Don’t you want this too?”

Her answer was slow to come - perhaps no longer than a few seconds but it felt like an eternity. When she did, the admission was so quiet, so fragile, that it could almost be mistaken as a promise lost on the wind. Natasha swallowed and turned until you were face to face, barely a hairsbreadth between you. “Yes." 

"And then?” You searched her face for any sign of deceit, for the faintest trace of a lie, but came up with nothing. The woman before you now, carefully placed strands of red hair blowing loosely across her face, green eyes wide and vulnerable, cheeks flushed and soft lips parted ever so slightly… This was Natasha Romanoff. There were no masks to hide behind now. “Would you run away with me? Really?”

Natasha’s gaze fell, years of distrust and betrayal, heartache and pain building a wall between you. Her voice steady, never able to truly reveal how her heart was breaking, she sighed, “It’s just a fantasy, Blaze.”

“It doesn’t have to be. You could keep me on the straight and narrow. Well, the narrow.” Her lips twitched at the awful joke but you couldn’t help yourself. You’d been holding it back for weeks. “We can protect the world our way.”

The gap between you closed as Natasha brought her lips to yours. Her fingers threaded through your hair, she tugged on the strands and kissed you deeply. You melted into her embrace, returning the kiss with as much enthusiasm as you could. The night wind carried distant songs and cliche accordion tunes and the music swelled around you as you fought for dominance with the beautiful redhead. 

She spun you round, backed you against the rail, her mouth never leaving yours. Natasha caught your lower lip between her teeth, the sharp burn so much more delicious as her hands trailed down your arms and she pressed her body to yours. Your head fell back as she sucked a bruise below your ear, marking you as her own. 

More and more, she nipped at the skin and your breathing grew unsteady, almost erratic as her hand came to rest on your thigh. Her lips brushed against the shell of your ear, the skin tingling as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Blaze.”

Metal clicked around your wrists, cold and unforgiving. You watched, heart crushed as she stepped back, unable to meet your gaze. A desperate glance showed what you already suspected: she’d handcuffed you to the railing. 

“It never matters what I want. The job has to come first.”

You struggled against the cuffs, frustration over your own stupidity paling in comparison to the sheer sadness that threatened to drown you. This is what came of hope. Disappointment and betrayal. “Let me go, Natasha.”

She turned her back to you and pulled her phone from her pocket. “Target is secured. Go for extraction.”

These were bloody good handcuffs, all considering. You twisted your body but couldn’t quite get the right angle to reach the pin in your hair. Melting the metal was your only option, really, but that hurt. Normal burns healed within a week or so but that level of damage would take far longer and it left you exhausted and drained. Plus, as you’d noted before, it hurt like shit. 

No, there was only one way you were getting out of these cuffs and that was with Natasha’s help. “Come on, Nat. You don’t want to do this. Let me go and I’ll be good. What’s a bit of bondage between friends, eh? Course, it would be better if you were the one in handcuffs. Why don’t you come over here and we can change things up a little.”

“Don’t make it harder than it already is, Blaze. Do what SHIELD say, give them the answers they want and you’ll get your freedom. They don’t want to lock you up. I don’t want to see you that way, either. Tell them what you know, go along the rehabilitation programme and everything will turn out alright.”

“For you maybe. You’ll get a nice, cleancut version of me to mess around with, strong and powered, still able to keep up with you but on the 'right’ side. A SHIELD sanctioned outlet for your desires and you won’t ever have to worry about crossing the line again. Well, I won’t be that person, Natasha. I won’t let them brainwash me into believing that they are right.”

“That’s not what the programme is for." 

"Fool yourself if it helps you to sleep at night. I know the truth.”

“Blaze, please.”

You scoffed, unable to fathom how she could possibly have thought this would go any other way. “This won’t make the feelings go away, you know. You’ll still think about me in the dark, my hands on your body, my lips on your skin. That fire doesn’t fade so easily.”

The lift dinged and a group of heavily armed agents stepped out onto the floor. You’d almost be flattered they considered you such a threat if the situation was remotely different. One, wearing a suit made from fire retardant material, stepped up and injected a serum into your neck. You hissed at him like an angry animal, caged and trapped, and he scuttled away in fear. 

Natasha refused to meet your gaze. 

Everything blurred as the sedative took hold. Your head fell back, the fuzzy lights of Paris filling your vision like millions of dying stars, before your body gave way. That was when you felt hands grab you, separate you from the railing and drag you away. 

As the world went black, the last thing you saw was the back of Natasha’s head, striding away to leave you to face the darkness alone.


	5. Chapter 5

Incarceration did not suit you. Oh, it was fine for a few days. Solitary confinement was the perfect place to reorganise your thoughts and clear your mind of the worries that weighed you down. After a few weeks the lack of diversity in the food began to get to you and the voices were not limited to those of the guards outside your cell. 

They whispered in your ear, called out your stupidity for ever trusting Black Widow. So desperate to be near her, you'd put everything at risk and it had failed. Just like everything else you had ever done. 

You fought to ignore their taunts but it was difficult. With nothing but a blank wall for conversation, the faded scribblings of past prisoners to keep you company, it soon became hard to tell their imagined voices from reality. 

The heavy locks in the door clicked open and you stiffened. It wasn't time for your daily beating yet, although it had to be soon. Oh, how you loved to imagine the faces of the guards that took out their frustrations upon you swallowed in burning flames. To see them writhing on the ground as their bodies turned to ash at your will. 

You'd never been this way before. Sure, there were people who deserved such a fate but you'd never taken pleasure from the mere thought of inflicting suffering upon their miserable lives. Months trapped in here had taken their toll and not in a good way. If SHIELD wanted a monster, they certainly had one now.

The hinges screamed as the heavy door was pushed open and a familiar face stepped inside. 

"Thank God it's you." If it had been anyone other than Natasha, you feared for what you might have done. 

You rolled over and sat upright, tugging on the baggy prison clothes as if straightening out the wrinkles would make them any more attractive to your visitor. You'd told the guards before that orange just wasn't your colour but they took no notice. Admittedly, they had paid closer attention when you set the itchy fabric on fire; it was a true travesty that they didn't appreciate the skill and control necessary to burn a pattern that intricate without allowing the entire garment to burst into beautiful flames. 

Full of fake cheer, you announced, "I'm bored."

"I'm not here as your entertainment."

"Let me guess. You need me to tell you everything I know about the Smith Syndicate. Project Ashes, perhaps? Or maybe the Dashkov brothers are planning a raid and you want to know where they store their stolen goods. Well, the answer is no."

For the hundredth time, you pushed off your bed and paced the short length of the cell. Five steps and turn. Five steps and turn. You touched the marks in the thick stone blocks at each end, the desperate scratchings of a mind gone mad, left over from the cell's previous occupant. It was a pathetic ritual created from necessity; if you didn't maintain some form of activity in here, you would lose it completely. 

Natasha caught your arm when you passed her for the third time. Her fingers dug into your flesh as she shoved you down on the bed, a roughness that left you both momentarily shocked. Naturally, she was the first to recover. "I don't have time for your games, Blaze. Lives are at stake."

"My games? Oh please! You are the one that has messed me about. Ever since you grabbed me in Paris - kissing me and handcuffing me to the rail of the Eiffel Tower was low, by the way - you've been stringing me along. Promising nicer rooms, better food, more free time if I cooperate with SHIELD's investigations. Well, I did and I got none of those things. So now I'm done."

It would be easy to say that you'd never really believed those promises. No criminal worth their salt would accept the word of an Agent at face value; they lied to get what they wanted and then locked you away regardless. But when Natasha had sworn that you'd be given fair treatment, that you could pass your years here in a decent, if slightly dull, existence, you'd trusted her. 

Sentimentality. Weakness. Naivety. Same difference. It had all been lies. 

Up on your feet again, Natasha didn't give you the opportunity to try and fight. She was on you in an instant, pinning your arms above your head with one hand. You crashed your lips against hers, stealing a passionate kiss that lasted far longer than you'd anticipated before she inevitably pulled away. 

Expression hard, she hissed, "Don't."

"You know you love it," you taunted. With a sudden burst of strength you broke your hands free from her grasp and this time you shoved her down onto the bed. On top of her before she had the chance to move, you pinned her arms to the thin mattress and sat on her chest. "Tell me no, Nat."

"No."

"Mean it."

Barely a whisper, she breathed, "No."

You sighed but, as you went to swing your legs off of her, Natasha grabbed your hips and flipped you over. Her hands slid slowly up your body, teasing the orange shirt off your shoulders. She cupped your breasts through the thin camisole and nipped at your lower lip, the sharp bite bringing a grin to your face. This was more like it.

"You want to play a game?" she asked, sitting back on her heels. Red strands fell around her face, highlighting the beautiful lines of her jaw. Her thumbs teased your nipples through the dark fabric as she rocked her hips over yours. Oh, the lonely nights you'd filled dreaming of this exact scenario. She wet her lips and offered, "Here's one for you. For every piece of information you give me, I'll remove a piece of clothing."

"And when there's no more to remove?"

She simply cocked her perfect eyebrow, an open invitation that had your mind reeling. 

Your attention flickered to the camera in the corner of the room. Interestingly, the little red light was off. So this had been her plan all along. You were hardly one to look a gift shag in the mouth but something stopped you from jumping straight in. This wasn't right. It wasn't how you wanted it to go. 

Natasha was the one meant to submit to you, not the other way around. More than that, though, a deep, desperate part of you wanted it to mean more. You wanted to fuck her because she wanted you to, not as an exchange for information. This would be nothing more than a cold, emotionless payment. 

You wanted her to willingly give herself, to let go of everything and present herself fully to you as a gift, a mutual attraction. You wanted to make love to her. That was far more terrifying than the prospect of being stuck here for another ten years. 

With a gentle shove, you pushed her off and smiled. "Thanks but no thanks."

Confusion rolled from her body in waves, followed by genuine uncertainty as to how to proceed. She hid it away beneath a facade of utter offence, but you saw the hurt, the rejection flicker across her eyes. "Fine. If there's nothing else you're willing to give -"

"The Dashkovs use a fence called Mickey Pearce. He's currently settled somewhere in London. I don't know the exact location."

"You want me to direct my team's resources to searching all of London for a man you claim is involved and just let go of the Dashkov lead?"

Frustration bubbled up inside your chest. Once again, she didn't believe you. Or, perhaps, she truly was pissed that you'd rejected her. Probably a mix of both and that simply irritated you more. Didn't she understand what you were risking by revealing that much?

Fingers trembling, your skin taking on the distinctive glow as the fire burned beneath your flesh, you bit back, "Well, yes, actually I do. I have never lied to you, Agent Romanoff. I have never given you any reason to not trust that my word is true."

"You've never given me any reason to believe that it is, either."

Her words circled in your skull, hammering away at what little control remained after so long of being stuck in this ridiculous little prison. You slammed your fist against the wall, flames springing to life and charring the stone surface. "What do I have to do to convince you? Do you really think that I am so selfish, so lost that I would lie about this? You branded me a villain because I deviated from SHIELD's righteous path but look what I've been able to achieve since I broke free of their shackles! My powers are stronger than ever, despite the fact they keep lacing my food with their pathetic serum, and I am capable of doing so much more than you could ever imagine."

"Blaze…"

The whispers in the back of your mind grew louder, the nasty little voices egging you on. And they were right. What made her any better than you? Just because she wore a badge recognised by a corrupt government did not mean that her approach was more successful than yours. Bad people had to be stopped; it didn't matter how. If doing what you had to do meant sacrificing a little piece of your soul in order to save others then so be it. It wasn't as if Natasha's hands were any cleaner than yours. 

"No! You are not better than me, Agent Romanoff. You do not get to sit there and pretend that I am the one stringing you along. You know what I am, what I can do, and yet you continue to play with fire. Do not cry to me when you get burned. My words are honest and true. They always have been. The same cannot be said for you."

Fire cleanses. It eradicates and levels everything so that new orders may spring from the ashes. Your hands were sparking now, the flames flickering angrily at your skin. A circle of fire surrounded you, edged closer to Natasha with each passing second. 

Natasha took a step back, trapped up against the wall. She held her arm over her face, fighting the smoke that filled the air. "Blaze, please calm down."

The flames in your palms grew larger still, spreading up your arm and incinerating the hideous orange fabric that you hated so much. The world took on a red tinge, details lost behind the intense waves of heat that rippled around you. In a fire triangle of your own, an unbreakable cycle: the flames increased the pain which spiked the anger that fueled your powers. 

Repressing a desperate scream as the skin on your hands blistered, you hissed, "Don't ever tell me to calm down!"

Natasha curled into the corner, genuine fear in her eyes. In all the time you'd known here, you had never seen her so scared. Locked in this little room, if you were to lose control of your powers she would have nowhere to hide, no possible way of escape. Realising that was enough to pull you back from the edge, the burning flames dissipating in sparkling embers on your fingertips. 

"I'm sorry." You genuinely couldn't recall the last time you'd apologised for anything and it sat uncomfortably on your chest. The fabric of your trousers singed as you shoved your hands into the oversized pockets, the sharp scent of burning fibres filling your nostrils. Eyes on the ground, you muttered, "I wouldn't have hurt you. Not unless -"

"Not unless I asked. I know."

Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Natasha stepped forward and rested her palms on your shoulders. She sat you down carefully on the edge of the bed, maintaining a strict distance despite clearly wanting to break rank and calm you some other way. Or maybe that was just you projecting again. At this point, you were no longer sure what was real. 

"Blaze…"

"I can't do this, Nat. I can't stay here any longer. I do not do well in closed spaces."

"I'll personally make sure that you're moved back into the main block. You'll get more freedom, be able to talk to other prisoners and -"

"Fuck that. I don't want any of that. And you know that the moment you pull me from solitary, the second that they ease the restrictions on my incarceration, that I will find a way out. Hell, I don't even need to be moved. I already know how to break out of this cell. I was just waiting for you to come and see me again before I did."

From anyone else those claims may have seemed unsubstantiated but given that you held the record for most successful prison breaks of any SHIELD inmate the odds that you were telling the truth were pretty damn high. Natasha sighed, the kind designed to implore you to rethink. To be smart and consider your options. 

But what were they, really? Sit and wait out your sentence. Allow her to move you and then be back within a week for bad behaviour. Spend the rest of your life pretending to reform, to fall back in line with their ideas and strict rules for what? A life with as little freedom on the outside as in here. 

Two months ago, it might have held some sway. You might have considered the offer. Now? Nothing would change your mind. You'd been trapped in here for too long. 

"Why?"

Her question surprised you. "What?" 

"Why were you waiting for me?" 

You laughed, finding absolutely no humour in the situation. "Curiosity. I thought - or rather, had hoped - that you would come and see me sooner. You really got me back in Paris. I had to know whether you meant what you said. The longer you waited to see me, the more convinced I was that what you said was true."

"What did I say?" 

You lifted a hand to her cheek but the sharp contrast of your blistered hands with her perfectly smooth skin had you drop them almost immediately. "That you wished things were different. If you'd been the first agent to interrogate me, I'd have known you were lying. That you were just playing a part and the job mattered more. But the more time that passed, the longer you waited, the harder it got to see me rot away in here…"

"Maybe I was just busy," Natasha suggested. However, the slump of her shoulders, the tight grip of her fingers on the edge of the mattress, suggested otherwise. "This can't happen, Blaze. We can never…"

The camera in the corner was still off. You stretched your little finger as far as it would go, just close enough to brush against hers. "They don't have to know."

"They will."

"You're the best SHIELD has. If anyone can keep a secret from them, it's you."

She smiled tightly, all her despair displayed in a neat line across her face. Natasha pushed herself off the bed and paused at the door. "How were you planning on breaking out?"

"They think the serum works. It clearly doesn't. I was gonna wait for my daily interrogation and fight my way out. Not elegant but effective."

"How many people would die?"

You sat back against the wall and put on an air of consideration, as if it hadn't been the first thing you'd measured when coming up with the plan. "Does that matter?"

"Yes. It really does."

"None," you sighed. "I can control my powers well enough to ensure that I don't kill them. You may have noticed that people tend to panic when their clothes are on fire. It's a good distraction. If I set a fire ball off in A-wing, that's two fronts they'd have to fight and I could slip out amongst the confusion. A few second degree burns at worst."

It was, as hasty escapes went, a reasonably thought out plan. Save for, perhaps, giving away the details to an agent who worked for the people keeping you prisoner. Natasha didn't say anything more. She simply knocked on the door and left without a goodbye. 

Only when you laid down on your crumpled bed sheets, staring up at the ceiling, did you feel something beneath your pillow. Reaching under, you found a plastic fob to the prison compound. Access all areas. A get out of jail free card. 

Maybe there was hope for Natasha after all.


	6. Chapter 6

If there was anything that you hated more than an organised group of heroes, it was an organised group of ‘villains’. You used the word lightly as this bunch of incompetents could barely rob a bank if the guards left the vault doors wide open and willingly handed over their guns. 

The Legion of Shadows, as they called themselves, was made up of five members, excluding yourself. Mantra, a young woman with bright blue hair who could, on occasion, muddle the minds of those around her. She mostly succeeded in doing that by opening her mouth and talking absolute shit at them but perhaps five percent of the time it was achieved through actual telepathic ability.

Her original partner in crime Josh was a hacker from Oakland who hid his face behind a horrendous pair of 80’s porn star glasses and a matching mustache. He prided himself on being able to break into any system, regardless of the security net. In his defence, Josh always delivered on his promises. Unfortunately, he had the stealth of a wrecking ball and more often than not only succeeded in gaining access by completely destroying half of the target system and alerting the owner to the less than subtle intrusion. 

Alpha and Beta were identical twins with the ability to teleport, so long as their intended landing point was no more than five steps away. Beta, the only one of the pair to ever speak, also claimed to understand each and every language in the world which was, actually, quite useful. Alpha could hold their breath for almost twenty minutes and was a champion swimmer as a child but had, in their adulthood, been attacked by a school of fish and now refused to even go near a body of water. 

The final member of the Legion was Chloe, although she preferred to go by the name Xi'alli. Why, you didn’t know. She was, depressingly, the most normal of the group. She had a big personality and took every suggestion as a threat. Because of that, she spent most of her time barking orders and refused to amend a single detail of any plan that she made, no matter how ridiculous. 

One day, one glorious day, you would kill them all. You’d lock them in a building and set it alight with them still inside. Finding a comfortable seat on a nearby hill, you intended to whip out a picnic and spend the evening warmed by the heat of the burning wreck. Until that wonderful day came, you were sadly stuck with them. 

Post your escape from that five star SHIELD facility, you’d snuck onto a small boat and ended up somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. Three months later and you were still trapped there, wishing oh so desperately to be back in your isolation cell. No matter how hard you prayed, the tracker that SHIELD had implanted in your arm did not bring a team to arrest you. You soon lost faith in the faulty tracker and tore it from your skin, crushing it into tiny pieces beneath your boot. It felt like a piece of your soul died that day. 

You weren’t entirely certain where this base was or how these idiots had ever amassed enough money to fund it - one: buying an island was expensive, even a small lump of sand and rock like this and two: the lair was surprisingly well equipped with high tech weapons and surveillance, even more shocking considering that none of them were capable of making the toaster work. 

They’d threatened to kill you when you first crawled out of the boat (there had been much argument over how you should be executed and it ran for such a long time that Alpha brought you a cup of tea while the battle of words raged) but once they’d realised who you were, and recognised the value of having your skills on their team, they welcomed you into their League with open arms. 

That was why, despite every instinct in your body telling you otherwise, you found yourself nodding along to Chloe’s latest terrible scheme. They had to believe that you were one hundred and ten percent on board with this unavoidable disaster if you were to ever get a place on their jet and find your way back to civilisation. At this point, you were so desperate to leave the island that you had considered just swimming back to the mainland. A thousand miles of open sea was so much more preferable than having to listen to Mantra slaughter 'Call Me Maybe’ for the hundredth time. 

“The jet leaves tonight at eight sharp. We head straight for the temple, collect the artefact before anyone knows we were even there and then we take Washington!”

“Shouldn’t we stop and study the Serpent’s Claw before rushing straight to the capital?” You immediately regretted opening your mouth. Alpha, apparently also sensing the long rant as to why the League would not be doing that smart and sensible thing, walked off to brew another pot of tea, shaking their head as they turned away. 

Just as you’d predicted, Chloe launched into a series of reasons as to why she knew best and made it clear that as the newest member of the League that your initiative was appreciated but that you should leave the heavy thinking to those who had experience in tactical decision making. Of course, a blind cat would have made smarter choices than her but you sat back in your chair and let her talk until her face turned as blue as Mantra’s hair. 

“I’ve done all the research, you know. I read all about what the Claw is capable of and how to activate it and I don’t need you coming in here and telling me that all of my ideas are shit. Just because you can burn stuff with your mind doesn’t make you any better than us, Blaze. In fact, you are the only one of the League that has ever been banged up by SHIELD so I would say that we are doing far better than you, thank you very much.”

Alpha returned with the tea and handed you a cup. You grimaced at the sweetness - they liked their tea with a minimum of twelve teaspoons of sugar - but nodded in thanks nonetheless. By the time you emptied the cup, Chloe was finally starting to wind down in her pointless argument. One of these days, she would rage so hard that she lost her voice. What an occasion that would be. 

“My apologies. I just wanted to make sure that you knew the Serpent’s Claw drained the user of their energy and there are recorded instances of the users bursting into flames.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes before turning her nose in the air, arms folded perfectly across her chest. You finally understood. These were trust-fund kids with a chip on their shoulders. Explained so much. “Of course I knew that. That’s why you’re going to be the one using it. You can withstand the fire.”

That was definitely not the response you’d expected. Nor was it any kind of responsibility you wanted. It was one thing to go on this foolish treasure hunt and then split when they landed in Washington. It was another entirely to become the central part of the plan to rain fire down on the capital. “Are you sure that… I mean, you are clearly the expert here. You deserve to be the one to use the Claw.”

“It’s true, I am the expert but part of leading a team, Blaze, is knowing when to deliverate -”

“Delegate,” you corrected.

“That’s what I said. Delegate. No more questions? Good. Remember, everyone. The jet leaves at eight.”

With that, the League disbanded and you resisted the urge to bang your head against the table. You should have just kept your mouth shut. No good worrying about it now, though. Instead, you waited for Chloe to disappear with Mantra - a bubble of jealous filled your chest thinking that the universe let those two idiots be together but conspired to keep you and Natasha apart - then slipped into her private study.

You quickly found the pile of ancient books and scrolls that mentioned the Serpent’s Claw and skimmed through for any useful information that your 'leader’ might have left out of the briefings. It took some searching but you eventually found what you were looking for. Most of the texts were modern reproductions of ancient scripts, designed to look older than they were and sell for a higher price to those without the wits to notice. One, however, was a genuine text that had to date back centuries. 

The pages were, naturally, incredibly fragile and much of the writing had faded. However, you managed to find the reference to the Claw and what you learned sent a chill down your spine. The language was poetic, an attempt at describing what the author couldn’t understand, but your twenty-first century outlook put a different spin on the words. This wasn’t just a weapon. It tore a hole between the worlds and would invite demons of the darkest kind into your dimension. 

If Chloe thought that you would be able to control them, she was hopelessly wrong. 

Scrambling around her desk, you quickly found Chloe’s phone. Unlike Josh, she spared little thought to privacy and it only took a few attempts to guess her password (Legion). Dismissing a picture of her and a fluffy poodle, you typed in a number from years ago and prayed to whatever god was listening that the line was still active. 

It beeped twice before connecting you to a machine. There was no message but a separate tone sounded, alerting you that it was recording. “It’s me. You’re gonna need to bring a team down to Peru. Ten point three degrees south, seventy-one point seven six degrees west. There’s an artefact in an old temple and this group of idiots are going to try and use it to destroy Washington. Come stop them before we end up unleashing Hell on Earth.” You paused for a moment, then added, “I’ve missed you.”

Following a second call, you deleted the logs and shoved the phone back where you’d found it. Then, as if you had nothing to hide, you strode back into the main area of the base and busied yourself until eight o'clock came around. 

The jet was not quite what you were expecting. Honestly, you were expecting some kind of ancient army helicopter, modified and brought up to date but clearly ancient. Instead, what you found was an actual Quinjet. The SHIELD logo had been removed and replaced with an awful design that you were ashamed to be associated with but it was still clearly their tech. 

“Landing in five,” Beta announced as the jet began to descend not an hour later. They set down on a flat outside the temple and you followed the rest of the team out into the unknown. 

SHIELD were nowhere to be seen. Instead just lots of rocks and plants. Well, shit. That wasn’t good. You’d hoped that they would arrest you before you stepped a single foot inside the temple and stop the League from ever acquiring the Serpent’s Claw. Things might still be okay if they arrived before you reached the artefact but the moment Chloe got her hands on it the entire playing field would shift. 

Even these idiots could do serious damage with the Claw. Hell, they’d probably do even more because of the sheer fact that they had no idea what they were doing. With that in mind, you stayed close to the front and followed your would-be leader into the ruins.

You summoned a fireball to light the path, bright enough to illuminate the long forgotten temple but small in size so to hide the true extent of your capabilities from the rest of the League. Alpha watched the flickering ball with wonder in their eyes and at one point grew so mesmerised by the intense red colour that they actually reached out to touch it. Thankfully, Beta batted their twin’s hand away before they did any real damage. 

Almost depressingly, there were no secret traps or hidden doors. Your only obstacles were a large pile of bricks from where the roof had partially collapsed on the hallway and a tight squeeze through to the centre chamber. In the middle of the room, there sat a large stone table edged with intricate carvings. Beta traced the scratchings with their fingers and spoke the words aloud, bringing to life a language which hadn’t been uttered for millennia.

It was an ugly language and Beta clearly struggled to twist their mouth into the correct shapes. For a moment, nothing seemed to change. The vines which hung from the roof did not magically come to life nor did the floor beneath you shudder or open up to reveal a bottomless pit. But then a chilly gust blew through the room and you had the distinct, uncomfortable sensation of a bone hand tightening around your ankle.

Through no action of your own, your fireball flickered out of existence as the stone slab suddenly broke in two. Chloe leapt up and reached into the shadows with a complete disregard for her own safety. Her piercing scream bounced around the room but died away as she removed her arm - coated in a thick, slimy black substance - and brandished the Claw. 

“We did it! We’ve got the Claw!”

“Do you hear that?” Josh asked, his frown so deep that it was visible behind those enormous glasses. “That’s an engine. Another Quinjet.”

Chloe hissed and waved the twins back towards the hallway. “Go. Hold them off. Now!” She turned to you and tossed the Claw over. “There’s no time to waste. We’ll have to do it here. Open the portal.”

“What portal?” Mantra asked, more confused than normal. 

“Shut up, Mantra! Blaze, do exactly what I say. Quickly." 

You nodded. Following her instructions, you wrapped the golden coil of the Serpent’s tail around your arm and pricked your finger on the sharp tooth of the snake. Around you, the temple began to shake, bricks crashing down from the roof above. Josh shoved you aside out of the path of a particularly large rock as you repeated the nonsense words that Chloe shouted, feeling the artefact draining your energy as you spoke. 

Behind you, the wall began to shimmer - and not in the fun way. It was a darkness the kind you’d never seen before, like staring into the heart of a black hole. There was nothing, and yet there was everything. A weight, an incredible substance as the creatures on the other side began to push their way through into this reality. 

"Hand over the artefact." 

You turned to the familiar voice and almost breathed a sigh of relief. Captain America, the righteous man himself, flanked by none other than Falcon and Black Widow. 

"Too late, Captain,” Chloe sang. She jumped off the broken slab with a movie dramaticism and spread her arms wide. “Prepare for the coming of the shadows. For the end of life as you know it. We are the Legion of Shadows and you will bow to us.”

It was all you could do not to laugh. You wondered how long she had practised those lines in front of the mirror. She’d require a certain level of preparation to deliver them with such gusto, such misplaced belief in herself that you couldn’t fathom how the rest of your 'team’ were able to keep it together. But, in fact, they stared at her enraptured as if she were the new Christ. 

Across the room, Natasha caught your gaze and raised an eyebrow. Really? she asked. 

You responded with a shrug.

The sense of utter disbelief in the chamber was shattered as a large tentacle pierced the veil between worlds. It was at least five foot thick and covered in bright purple spikes. Josh wasn’t fast enough to dodge out the way and it carved a perfect line straight through his armour. He doubled over in pain, screaming at the top of his lungs. The battlefield was no place for a hacker. 

Mantra was at his side instantly, cradling his bleeding arm, but you were more concerned with avoiding the sharp bite of the creature’s spikes than checking on the man. You took cover against the wall of the chamber, back pressed right up against the stone. However, the floor was still trembling and the entire temple had minutes left before it was entirely reduced to rubble. 

“Stop this, Blaze!” Natasha yelled, vaulting over the first giant tentacle and barely sliding beneath the second. “Close the portal!”

“Don’t you dare,” Chloe hissed, suddenly by your side. She pressed a gun to your temple, eyes darker than you’d ever witness. You felt the rage burn beneath her skin, practically saw the shadows bend around her to create a cloak of darkness. “Keep that portal open or else.”

More and more tentacles joined the fight, punching holes through the temple walls and streaming light in from above. They shrunk into the shadows before slowly, cautiously, whipping back into the sunlight. You were vaguely aware of Captain America and Falcon launching themselves across the small space, desperately fighting back the creatures, but your attention was solely on Natasha. 

She was cornered and thinner tentacles, like sprouts off the main limb, climbed up her legs. They bound her, squeezed the air from her as the sharp spikes shredded her suit and skin. Her screams went straight to your heart and you knew that you couldn’t stand by and let this continue. 

Meeting Chloe’s gaze, you spat in her face and growled, “Go to Hell.”

You drew on every ounce of energy and concentration you could and focused all of that into a wave of flames. It burst out across the temple space and incinerated the nearest tentacle. The ones that survived the initial blast floundered manically, the sharp scent of burning flesh and ear shattering screech filling the air. 

Chloe cocked her gun but you redirected your energy and super-heated the metal handle. Ugly blistered erupted across her skin and the weapon bounced on the floor. You immediately kicked it aside and then, for good measure, kicked her in the chest too. She stumbled backwards, tripped over the burnt remains of one tentacle and cradled her hand.

The world grew blurry as the Claw continued to drain your energy, certainly not helped by the enormous attack you just launched on the very creatures you were meant to be summoning. A sharp pain spread through your back as you hit the ground but you kept your focus elsewhere.

Gold had a low melting point, all considering. You just had to heat it up enough to loosen the tight grip around your wrist. Easier said than done, what with your flesh literally sizzling but the muffled yells from the opposite side of the room kept you focused. You had to close the portal or Natasha would die. 

As the metal began to drip down your arm, the Serpent’s eyes fell to the ground and the portal instantly began to collapse. Without them to focus the ancient magic, the connection to the distant dimension was broken. However, before the doorway closed completely, one of the creatures managed to break through. 

Hideous was an understatement. Terrifying didn’t come close. It was a thing of nightmares. Worse than that, the sort of thing that the creatures of your nightmares would fear. A mess of furious limbs and teeth, eyes that looked deep into your soul and fed on the very best of yourself until all that remained was a cold, unfeeling shell of hatred. 

You didn’t have the energy to fight it but, thankfully, the Avengers were there to save the day. Captain America and Falcon focused their attention on the beast as you crawled between the rubble to Natasha. With what little strength remained, you cast a flame and used it to burn away the slimy tentacles that held her in place. 

The flame was weak, barely flickering, but you willed this to work and, by some miracle, it did. The steaming flesh fell away to reveal Natasha, her body limp and bloody. 

“No, no, no,” you breathed, checking for a pulse. You cried a desperate sob at the faint beat beneath your fingers. Forehead pressed against hers, you thanked the universe for giving you this one. 

Not wasting a minute longer, you tossed her arm around your shoulder and edged towards the nearest hole in the wall. It was painful work, each and every muscle in your body was screaming out in fatigue, the build up of acid almost as horrendous as the scorching black skin around your wrist. To paint oneself in gold was a beautiful art. To have molten gold trickle down your flesh and solidify among the epidermis was not. It was ugly and brutal and would absolutely leave a scar - if you were lucky enough to keep your hand at all.

That didn’t matter, though. All that mattered was each new breath, each next step as you dragged Natasha towards the League’s jet. Alpha and Beta were nowhere to be seen and the Quinjet was empty. This certainly wasn’t the escape you’d had planned but you weren’t about to complain. 

Sliding free from Natasha’s dead weight, you clawed your way to the front of the plane and slumped against the dashboard. You had to fight to keep your eyes open as you programmed a new destination into the system, fingers slipping as you struggled to remain conscious. By miraculous luck, you managed to plug in the coordinates before you passed out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains smut, if it makes you uncomfortable you can just skip it

The rain pattered against the window, a constant rhythm that brought you great peace. Outside, evening had fallen across the forest and the only light came from the random bursts of fireflies as they darted between the bushes for protection from the storm. 

You saw her face reflected in the glass before you heard her. She was no longer dressed in her SHIELD uniform, instead favouring a dark tank top and a pair of light trousers borrowed from the cupboard. Despite that, Natasha instinctively fell back on her training, scouring the room for possible threats and escape routes. You might have felt offended if you didn't do the same in practically every new location too. 

Turning, you took in her injuries. Light scratches and bruises littered her skin but you had apparently over estimated the damage done by the hell creatures - unless she'd taken worse damage internally. Natasha moved with a relative ease that made you suspect otherwise; it could be faked but you sincerely doubted that her acting skills were so good to hide multiple broken ribs or a pierced kidney.

Still, exhaustion rolled off her in waves and you could tell that what she needed more than anything was a good rest. "You should have stayed in bed."

"Where are we?"

So much for the pleasantries, then, You could have lied but she would have found out eventually anyway. There was no point in making it any harder for your friend than it was already going to be. "Elsie Grey. That's what she used to call herself, anyway. Haven't really spoken in years but she owed me one. I gave her a ring before I left the League's island and she gave me the coordinates to this place."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Natasha edged towards the door, not bothering to hide her intention to run. Before she managed three steps the air shimmered around her - you had intended to summon a physical wall of fire but obviously your powers were still on the blink - and she stopped dead in her tracks. "What is this?"

You shot her a tired smile. "Protection. It's a category five hurricane out there. The house is sturdier than it looks, I promise, but I'd stay inside until it dies out, if I were you. You can try the phones if you want but SHIELD won't send a pick up for at least thirty six hours. Not even the state of the art birds will be able to pilot safely through that."

"You planned this, didn't you?"

"I can't control the weather, Agent Romanoff. However, if you're asking whether it was always my intention to bring you out here with me for a bit of privacy..." You spread your hands and shrugged. "I simply couldn't say."

"So what? We just sit here and wait for the storm to pass?"

There were certainly many other ways to pass the time but you got the feeling that Natasha wasn't in the mood to entertain your suggestions right now. Instead, you simply shrugged. "That's what I intend to do, yeah. Fancy something to eat?"

Reluctantly, Natasha agreed and followed you to the kitchen. It was a sweet little set up. Old fashioned wooden cabinets, a strong marble countertop and equipment that wasn't quite state of the art but new enough to still retain its shine. There wasn't much in the cupboards - this being a safe house and all, food tended to be the tinned kind - but you managed to scrape together a quick chilli with what you found. 

Silence hung heavily as you cooked, Natasha's gaze heavy on your hands the entire time. It didn't bother you - you entertained yourself by imagining what she might be imagining you could do with your fingers - until suddenly it really did. You thrust the knife into the chopping board and hissed, "What is it, Nat?"

"Your wrist."

"Yes?"

"It's burned."

It was all you could do not to give a round of applause. For all of her fabled observational powers, you could hardly believe that Natasha chose to focus on something so damn obvious. "No shit. That's what happens when I play with fire."

She rose from her seat at the island and cupped your arm. You yanked it away the first time but her grip was too tight to draw back after that. Slowly, Natasha rolled the shirt sleeve up to your elbow and gasped at the mess. "Blaze… What did you do?"

"What I had to to close that portal. I thought that you were - Well. You know. Couldn't let the creatures out. The Serpent's Claw was gold and gold melts. It wouldn't come off willingly so I had no choice. Don't touch it." You met no resistance as you drew away that time. 

In this light, you were able to see the harsh marks clearly. The burns were deep, incredibly so, and twisted around your wrist in the same pattern as the Claw. A few of the wounds still contained solidified pieces of gold, burned into the flesh around them. It would hurt like a bitch if you hadn't completely fried the nerve endings in the process. 

Natasha's concern made your heart leap but not in the good way. You couldn't bear to have her pity you so played it off as nothing, even though the truth was obviously the opposite. "It's fine. Not the first time. I've got a guy who deals with this sort of thing. Let me tell you, he's got the best drugs. Puts me right under and then by the time I come around the metal's gone. Takes a while but I'll heal after."

"Oh, Blaze…"

"Just… Just don't, okay? I know it's horrendous but I'm used to it. As I said, not the first time. Find the first aid kit and I'll wrap it up so you don't have to look."

She nodded and returned a few minutes later with ointment and bandages. Her deft fingers were light as she rubbed the paste into your flesh, her expression hardening when you barely reacted to the touch. It was almost funny; she thought that you were hiding your pain for her sake when in reality you simply couldn't feel a thing. Possibly never would again in that arm. 

Maybe that was why Natasha was acting this way, you mused. She felt guilty that you'd done this to save her. You'd do it again, without a doubt, but she didn't need to know that. She probably already did, though. That didn't make you feel any better. 

Once your wrist was coated in the ointment - the pleasant smell all you could feel - Natasha took the bandages and wrapped them carefully around your arm. She pinned it neatly and glanced up at your face. "Better?"

"Sure."

Dinner was a quiet affair. The chilli was no masterpiece (not that you'd expected much for cans that were years out of date) but it was edible and that was all you could really ask. After you finished, you collected the plates and began to wash them up when Natasha nudged you out the way. "I'll do it."

"You don't need to. I've got it."

"I said, I'll do it."

Her sharp tone surprised you both but if she thought that you were going to let it go so easily then she was sorely mistaken. "If I didn't know better, I might think you were angry with me."

"Of course I'm pissed with you!" she yelled, slamming the plate so hard into the sink that it shattered. "You were off the grid for months and when you reappear it's with a group of wannabe terrorists! You open a portal to another dimension then almost lose your hand to close the bloody thing and save my life. I have never known anyone as reckless as you, Blaze. You treat this like it's all a joke, like you're indestructible."

"Show me proof to the contrary and I might consider it."

She shoved you against the wall, the sudden pressure against your chest not the only reason you struggled to breathe. This close, you could practically taste the sweat on her skin. The warmth of her body against yours ignited the fire inside you. 

Instinctively, you dug your fingers into her hips to pull her closer and Natasha made no effort to stop you. "Why are you mad? It's my life to fuck up as I please."

"I can't stand by and watch you kill yourself, Blaze."

"Close your eyes then you won't have to."

Natasha slammed her fist against the wall with such force that you felt the impact roll through you. She barely flinched, didn't shift her gaze a single inch. "Damn you," she breathed, anger dripping from each word. Mixed with that, though, a different intensity. A desperate desire driving her actions as much, if not more so, than her higher rationale. "Damn you."

Closing the gap, you caught her plump lower lip between your teeth and tugged gently, your hands sliding around to cup her gorgeous ass. She could have stopped you if she wanted, pushed you away with ease and ended this right now but she didn't. 

You swallowed Natasha's moans, deepening the kiss until there was nothing else in the world except for you and the beautiful assassin. With each moment, you felt Natasha's hesitations fading away, her body melting into yours as she surrendered her inhibitions. Her body arched against yours, the sharp edges and walls she built so carefully crumbling with each touch, and the great Black Widow finally gave herself to you.

She pressed a kiss to the base of your neck then continued a hot trail up over your skin, a dizzying combination of light brushes and sharp bites. Her breath was warm against the shell of your ear as Natasha slid her hand beneath the hem of your t-shirt. Your name was like a prayer on her lips, a sinner calling out across time and space to her fallen angel. "Please…"

"Bedroom. Now." 

You shoved her back and raised an eyebrow expectantly when she made no attempt to move. A deep part almost hoped that she'd fight back for it would make taking her even sweeter. The seconds ticked by, your gazes locked together, a perfect stalemate and you realised that she wanted that too. The final, twisted round of the game you'd played for so long. Natasha had to lose in order to win the prize, to get what she truly desired, to cross the line she had so steadfastly obeyed. 

Well, if that was how she wanted it, who were you to deny her?

Grabbing a fistful of her shining red hair, you yanked the strands and pulled her across the room. You pushed her through the doorway and she stumbled back towards the bed, a dark glint in her eyes. Her lips twitched before the mask settled again, something you simply couldn't allow - and she knew it, too. 

This was about so much more than just sex, although that was certainly going to be a highlight. No, this was Natasha letting down her walls in the only way she knew how, opening up her heart and allowing you to see just how much she cared. And the only way to get that to happen, to break years of conditioning and training, was to do just that. Break her. Only, if it was as simple as breaking her with violence, anyone could have managed that. This required a far finer touch, one you had dreamed of providing for months now, one she finally trusted you to give. 

"Take off your clothes." Met with silence, you closed the gap between you and brushed your rough fingers across her throat. A perfectly innocent touch, if not for the slight glow of around your tips. She trusted that you wouldn't burn her - you knew you couldn't even if you wanted to, what with your powers on the blink - but the unspoken threat was there and clearly excited her. 

Turning her beautiful face to the side, you drew your lips along the sharp line of her jaw and muttered, "Don't make me ask again."

Natasha's hands slid across her body, following the natural line of all her curves as she slowly swung her hips from side to side. She toyed with the bottom of her tank top, teased the fabric before continuing down, her hand slipping between her legs as she danced. It was a performance, one perfected over years of meaningless seduction - sexy beyond belief but completely false. 

This wasn't right. Oh, it was a wonderful sight but not what you wanted. It wasn't real. 

You caught her hands and held them against your chest, the grip tight enough to bruise but easily broken if Natasha changed her mind. You wet your lips and shook your head, imploring her to understand what you couldn't bring yourself to say. 

As your hands fell away, Natasha's remained pressed to your chest, right over your heart. She held them there for a few seconds longer, counting each beat of your heart, before taking a step back. Perched on the edge of the mattress, she lifted the tank top over her head, slid off her underwear, exposing her beautiful body.

Her skin was littered with scars. Burns almost as bad as your own marred her pale flesh, some well treated by SHIELD's state of the art medicinal facilities, others rough and raised from her life before then when post mission care had been less of a priority. Natasha wore them proudly, not as trophies but as a story she had long since decided to claim back from those who once sought to own her. 

Relaxed but still on absolute alert, Natasha watched you and waited patiently for some kind of instruction. She projected strength but you could see the way her fingers trembled against her thighs, the uncertainty in her eyes. 

You bent down to kiss her, to take away that fear. She chased your mouth, desperate to deepen the connection, telling you without words what she needed. Gentle wouldn't cut it, not today. She needed release - from the nightmare image of the demon creatures, from the pressure of doing the right thing by SHIELD, from the pain of thinking that you had died. 

With a strength you definitely didn't have the energy to sustain, you lifted her and tossed Natasha into the centre of the mattress. Crawling up the bed, you covered her body with your own and kissed her deeply. She wrapped her legs around your waist, heels digging into your ass as she writhed beneath you. There was something about being fully clothed while she wore nothing that made your heart race - and it clearly had the same effect on Natasha too. 

Never had a more stunning sound left Natasha's lips as when you wrapped your hand around her throat. Her entire body arched against yours, something switching in her mind as those walls she built so high began to crumble. You scratched the gentle skin with your thumb, other hand sliding down her side and between her legs. 

You ran a finger through her wet folds, earning an almost inaudible moan when you reached her clit. She tossed her head back and bucked her hips, yearning more. It was almost cute that she thought you'd grant her release so quickly. Still, you gave a little and circled her sensitive clit, her breath hitching beneath your hand each time.

Crashing your mouth against hers, you grinned more with each desperate moan. Natasha's emerald eyes met yours, clouded with lust as you rubbed her clit faster, flickering back as she gave in to the sensations. Her cheeks were pink, the blush spreading right down her neck and across her chest, bright red strands of hair stuck to her forehead as you brought her closer and closer to the edge. 

"Ask me to come," you breathed in her ear.

Her lips twitched in a smirk at the same time an involuntary shudder shot through her. "No." 

You met her grin and smacked her clit, mesmerised by the way her entire body responded. She gripped the bedsheet, lips parted, eyes shut, and rolled her hips beneath you, all but asking for more. Taking a nipple between your fingers, you pinched her pert flesh, the sharp jolt having a similar effect. God, she was simply stunning. "Don't move."

Swinging your legs off the bed, you rummaged through a drawer to find the toy you were looking for. Elsie kept this place well stocked, you noted with appreciation. There was something for every occasion, whips and chains to feathers and blindfolds. How you wished that you had the time to explore each of these with Natasha but alas… For now, this - a strapless, double ended, vibrating strap; only the best for you both - would definitely suffice. 

Natasha licked her lips as you stripped down and came back to her. Supported by the wall, toy set beside you, ready, you knelt above her face and she wasted no time in devouring you. Skilled barely began to cover it. She dug her fingers into your ass as her tongue flickered between your folds. You threw your head back as she sucked on your clit, expertly bringing you to orgasm in record time. She didn't stop eating you out as you came, the intensity almost too much to bear. 

The high nowhere near close to fading, this euphoria unlike anything you'd ever felt before, you slumped beside Natasha and stroked her hair until your breathing returned to normal. Red strands splayed across the pillow, you knew that not even the greatest artists in history would be able to capture Natasha's radiance. You grabbed her chin and pulled her into another rough kiss, tasting yourself on her lips. 

The sparks bursting into full on flames once again, she helped you position the strap, sliding one end inside you and coating the dildo with a sweet smelling lube. You pressed her back against the mattress and hovered above her, teasing her hole with the thick tip of the strap. Without warning, you thrust into her and Natasha was unable to suppress that particular moan. 

The time for slow and gentle had long since passed, the both of you desperate for something more now. You thrust deep and hard into her, your hands roaming between her round breasts and her throat as she wrapped her legs around your waist, taking you even further. You lost yourself in Natasha, limbs tangled together, fighting for dominance as you kissed. 

Suddenly, you found yourself on your back. Natasha grinned down at you and rode your cock, the new angle teasing all kinds of delicious sounds from her lips. Like this, the vibrations and sensations were almost overwhelming. Wave after glorious wave rolled through you, starting low but soon increasing with ferocity. You grabbed her by the throat and pulled her down for another kiss, thrusting your hips to meet hers. 

Her legs began to shake and you also felt the unmistakable heat of an approaching climax. Clutching on to one another with bruising strength, scratch long lines into her back, you came together in a blinding orgasm, your second and her first. 

Natasha collapsed against your chest, the toy still inside you both, gentle vibrations almost too much after the high. She reached down and pulled the strap from you, tossing it aside to deal with later. She didn't say a word as she curled up against your side, an arm resting tentatively - almost as if she feared you'd bash it away - over your middle. 

Neither of you slept, although you both tried hard to pretend you were. The night passed slowly, the heavy silence a fair price to pay for crossing this line. At first light, you left the bedroom to make some breakfast. Nothing special, just some toast. Natasha joined you not long after, an oversized shirt from the cupboard wrapped loosely around her shoulders. 

"I don't want to talk about it," she declared, and you were almost relieved. Last night had been one of the best nights of your life but you had barely begun to unravel the mess of emotions in your chest. 

"Are you going to tell SHIELD?"

She huffed. "It is none of their business who I fuck. Where are you going next?"

"Not sure, yet. Still got a few favours to call in. Someone will help me hide before SHIELD can take me back to prison. I'll flog the Quinjet so I won't have to worry about funds for a while. Keep on the low after that."

"You don't have to run, Blaze." Natasha's tone was soft but her expression was guarded. You'd expected as much. She'd let you see beneath the walls, allowed you to see her at her most vulnerable, but there was always a catch. Apparently, the barriers which you'd broken had now been replaced by ones twice as high. "Turn yourself in and cooperate with SHIELD. Minimal jail time and then you can go back into the real world and help people. I know that's what you want to do."

You shook your head. It was a lovely proposal but you knew it would never play out that way. After all the damage you'd done, SHIELD would never trust you. You'd spend the rest of your life being watched, looking over your shoulder and faking your allegiance. Not all that different to what you were doing now, except on the outside you truly were free. 

Taking a bite of the toast, grimacing at the sharp taste of the burnt edges, you shook your head. "We've been over this, love. It wouldn't ever work. Plus the pension plan is rubbish."

Much to your surprise, Natasha didn't push it further. She simply sat by the island and picked at a banana. "When will you leave?"

"The worst should pass by tonight so as soon as it's possible to get the Quinjet out."

"And where does that leave me?"

"That depends on whether you come with me or not." Natasha's mask didn't crack at all but you felt the despondency nonetheless. With a tight smile, you shrugged it off as if it didn't kill you and said, "Suppose that leaves you right here, then. Phone lines shouldn't be that hard to get back up and running. You can send a message to SHIELD and they'll come rescue you. Lots more toys in the cupboard to entertain yourself with until they arrive."

"And what do I tell them?"

"Whatever you want. I took you hostage and you fought yourself free. We took a romantic break in the woods together and had the best sex in history. You chased me from the temple, had me under arrest but I escaped. The options are endless. Use your imagination."

Deciding that your toast was a lost cause, you tossed it into the bin and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering a moment longer than strictly necessary. You felt her fingers reach for yours, the tips brushing before she pulled away. "I need to pack some things," you announced.

You shoved your hands into your pockets and committed this image to memory. Natasha, still glowing from the night before, sat in your kitchen as if it were just another normal morning. A glimpse at a life you could never share, the kind of dream that was so perfect that it physically hurt. "See you later, Nat."

"Bye, Blaze."


	8. Chapter 8

You handed over a handful of grubby coins to the elderly shopkeeper, smiling sweetly as the thin layer of black ash coated his hands. You muttered some vague excuse about working in a mine and cursed the pigs that ordered you to work in such horrendously dirty conditions with such vivid language that it made his eyes bulge. Russian was such a beautiful language, so many artistic ways to curse. You wondered why you'd never learned it before. 

On your way out of the shop, you bumped into a blonde woman you didn't recognise. It had been a good few months since you moved into this remote little town, hidden away from the rest of the world by a curtain of mountains, but you'd come to learn the faces of everyone around. The fact that you didn't know this woman immediately set you on edge. 

Muttering a quiet apology, you slipped past her and pulled her wallet from her pocket. Such a useful skill, pick pocketing. In the shadows behind the corner shop, you opened it up to find not a collection of foreign bank cards but instead something even more terrifying: a business card for Sampson Thomas. 

To most, that would have meant nothing. To you, it meant everything. Sampson Thomas was the code name of an emergency hotline. The number changed every few months but apparently the alias remained the same, even after so many years. SHIELD had found you. 

You checked your appearance in a window as you walked casually back through the town, desperately ignoring the itch to look back over your shoulder. Your hair was pulled right back and the thick scarf around your neck, paired with a hideously knitted beanie - a welcome gift from the blind woman that lived in the field across - covered most of your face. Even if the SHIELD agent had been looking for you, the chances were high that you had passed by unrecognised. At least that was what you hoped. 

There were more people in the streets than usual, especially on such a chilly day. You searched each brief interaction for any sign of mal intent, any signal that the people you'd come to know here had turned you over for a bit of extra cash. Honestly, you wouldn't have blamed them. This town was nice enough but it was, at heart, an ex-industrial shit hole and any sane person would have taken the reward and moved to the city in a heartbeat. 

Dimitri the baker waved as you crossed the road, calling you over into a conversation. You hesitated. What would it cost to have him distract you, to keep you out in the open until backup arrived? He had young children that needed new clothes for the winter. SHIELD could definitely cover that. You waved back but continued to walk, not willing to risk it. 

You turned down a stinking back alley to avoid Vasilissa and her grandmother on the basis that both seemed to be wearing new coats which they hadn't been able to afford last week. The sweet little children that belonged to one of the local farmers tried to catch your hands and show you their new set up (you'd taught them the pleasures of setting things alight and they'd decided to create a super powerful, super dangerous flamethrower out of spare tractor pieces) but you shook them away and kept walking.

You soon made it to the central fountain and found yourself settling down on the edge, avoiding a wet patch (according to the locals, it hadn't worked for years but still somehow leaked). You couldn't say for certain what made you give up. It was just the natural conclusion, really. They'd found you and wouldn't stop chasing you until they caught you. What was the point in running and risking a shootout on the streets? Clearly the whole town was in on it, anyway. 

Curiously, though, even after almost an hour sat freezing your arse off, no one came to arrest you. It seemed unlikely that a SHIELD agent was just passing through, considering that this little town was on the direct route to nowhere, so that left only one possibility. Luka's job was going down today. 

The scent of burning drifted in on the wind, so familiar that it was almost comforting. It was incredibly remote but you could taste the ash on the wind. Your phone beeped a moment later, a short text confirming what you had begun to suspect. Luka was acting today after all. It would have been helpful if he'd given you more of a head start but it was still doable. 

You dropped your shopping in a nearby bush, not worried that the butter might melt in these freezing temperatures. Of course, chances were that you wouldn't be coming back for it but at least the radioactive rats would have something to nibble on tonight. 

Glancing around the square, finding it empty, you crouched down beside a chained bike and pulled a pin from your hair to pick the lock. Thirty seconds later, you were soaring through the town and down the road towards the mine where you worked. No sirens followed you, yet, so the local station hadn't picked up the fire yet, but you wasted no time in dismounting and racing towards the raging fire at the mine's entrance. 

Luka was waiting for you, a manic grin on his face. You slapped him on the back by way of a greeting and watched the flames lick the entrance to the mine. Narrowing your eyes, the intensity of the blaze disconcertingly high, you hissed, "It was only supposed to be a small explosion."

"Josef triggered a defence system that wasn't on the plans." Luka's accent was thick, decidedly not Russian in origin, but you picked up the hint of sadness in his voice.

"He was a good man," you said softly. 

Throwing his head back in a bright laugh, Luka patted you heartily on the shoulder. "He was a bastard and you know it. You still good to go in there and get the stuff?" 

You nodded. Savouring what may well be your last breath of fresh air, you closed your eyes and counted down from five. You could do this. Your powers had returned. Yes, you were on edge - this was what you could comfortably class as a stressful situation - but your mind was focused and there was absolutely no way that you were going to burn alive. Not today. 

That pathetic encouragement all you could muster, you ran straight into the flames. Not stopping long enough to be thankful that the raging fire bent around you, the raging inferno bouncing off an invisible shield of energy around your body, you followed a path that you'd memorised after five long, boring months of shovelling dirt to a hole in the rock face which hadn't been there yesterday. 

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you focused on parting the wall of fire that blocked your way. It fought back with a miniature explosion that knocked you into the opposite wall. Dazed and momentarily confused, losing control of your powers, the flames swallowed you whole. The shock of the heat scorching your skin jolted you back into reality, muscles trembling at the sudden flare of adrenaline. In the nick of time, you pushed the inferno back, suffering only mild second degree burns on your hands and ankles. You'd survived worse. 

Despite the heavy lining of ash that coated your mouth and throat, you bared your teeth in a vicious grin and jumped through the hole in the wall. Scuttling to the other side of the vault, you fought for a steady breath then took in the surroundings. It was just as Luka had said; a treasure trove indeed. 

An old HYDRA storage point, undisturbed for years, the vault was filled with weapons and technology that would sell for an absolute fortune on the black market. You ran your fingers over a particularly beautiful weapon, some kind of laser rifle slash EMP, and sighed. Hundreds, if not thousands of people would die if these got out into the world but that was the price to pay for a comfortable life. 

Ignoring the irritating voice in the back of your head, your often buried conscience, you piled the weapons into the cart Luka had sent in behind you. Outside in the tunnels, the flames were only growing and you knew that you wouldn't survive a second trip, even with your powers to protect you. You threw in as many of the weapons as you could and then set a grenade in the centre of the vault. Better that no one else found what was left. 

Your skin blistered as you touched the metal of the cart but it was infinitely preferable to being blown into a million pieces by a bomb. Teeth clenched so tightly that they began to crack, you raced back through the track towards the exit. 

Dizzy, struggling to draw breath now that the air was more carbon dioxide than oxygen, you ignored the screaming of your muscles and pushed on until the light at the end of the tunnel finally came into view. Just in time, too. The inferno had a mind of its own now and wouldn't respond to your powers. It closed in on you, licking at your skin, searing your face and igniting the edges of your clothes, itching to consume you. 

Channelling what little energy you had in a desperate scream, you raced on through the endless tunnel and finally stumbled out into the sun. On the ground instantly, you rolled around in the dust and dirt to put out the sparks and embers on your clothes then stared up at the sky, thick with grey and black clouds, and took a long, shaky breath. 

Luka's team were already unloading the goods into an unmarked van when he offered you an oxygen tank. He took your hand and pulled you to your feet, twisting the nozzle on the gas canister. "Amazing," he commended. "I didn't think you'd make it out."

"I wasn't so sure either." Blinking the world back into focus, you took another long breath and let your gaze wander to the truck. You almost choked on air when you saw the blonde from the store. "Luka, who's that?"

"Last minute addition to the team. She's clean."

"No, she isn't." You lowered your voice. "She's with SHIELD."

Luka grimaced and you realised a moment too late what was happening. Your vision blurred and you fell to your knees. You tossed aside the gas can and dug your nails into your palms, the sharp bite doing little to steady you. "You bastard."

"Sorry, Blaze." He gave a little shrug and turned his back on you. "Business comes first. Always. They offered to buy all the weapons and the reward on you will cover us for months."

The SHIELD agent, finally realising that you knew what was happening, came at you. With no obvious escape, you did the only thing you could: run back into the blazing mine. 

Despite what the current situation might suggest, you weren't stupid. You had known from the first moment that Luka approached you with this job that there was a chance it would go terribly wrong so you'd made sure you had a back up. Luka had trusted you to map the fastest path to the HYDRA safe but in your explorations you'd also stumbled across a few other interesting features of the mine. There were emergency tunnels from decades ago, sealed off but still there. 

Drugged, barely able to keep the flames at bay, you stumbled through the blaze in a distant daze until you once again stumbled out into a dark service tunnel. The sudden blackness was disorientating, certainly not helped by being half out of your mind on whatever Luka had spiked your oxygen with. 

The rocky surface of the tunnel tore up your palms as you stumbled forward, relying too heavily on the support to care about the pain. You finally reached the small air hole and began to claw your way free, widening the gap until you could just squeeze through. The cool breeze stung your skin but it was cleansing. 

Your limbs dragged behind you as you fought your way through the overgrown bushes onto a main road. The tunnel brought you out barely a mile from your home. All that separated you from your house was a few fields filled with aggressive cows. Head held high, blistering determination and spite the only thing keeping you going now, you strode across the uneven land with the aim of grabbing your emergency pack and getting the hell out of this place. 

Eternally grateful for the fact that you hadn't bothered to lock your back door, you crawled up the stairs and collapsed against the kitchen counter. Your bag was just across the room, under the stairs, but even that short distance was too much now. Slumping against the cabinet, your eyes drifted shut. 

A few hours later, you woke to a gentle touch. 

Leaping back, suddenly more aware than you had been for weeks, you hissed, "Don't touch me."

"Thank god. I'm so glad you're alive," Natasha breathed, a quiet thanks not meant for your ears. She buried her face in her hands for a few seconds before switching back into business mode. Surveying your injuries, she said, "You need to see a doctor. These burns, Blaze, they're bad. Way worse than anything I've ever seen you sustain. What happened?"

"Ask your SHIELD buddies. I fucking knew I couldn't trust Luka. Everyone told me. They said he'd stab me in the back but did I believe them? No. Bastard."

"You don't get to be righteous, Blaze. You were raiding a HYDRA safe and planning on selling the spoils on the open market. Those kind of weapons… The damage they could do."

"I blew up the vault before I left," you groaned, pushing yourself upright. Sparing your injuries a glance, you regretted it instantly. For all your protestations, Natasha was right. These burns were bad. It would be a bloody miracle if any of them healed over. You wondered whether Helen Cho would be willing to lend a hand; she was quite the name in regenerative skin. Certainly worth a look - some other time, of course. "I was going to tip you off before Luka sold them."

"Really?"

You shrugged. For your talk, it would have been a risky option. You were already getting a name for being on SHIELD's radar; finding well paid work was difficult when you were on law enforcement's hit lists. No one wanted to have you around to ruin the operation. Things would only get harder if you got a reputation for being a grass to boot. "I was certainly going to think about it. I did actually blow up the vault, though. Your agents will confirm that, if they're remotely capable of doing their job."

"Sit still and let me bandage you up."

"Why? They'll do a fine job in The Annex."

"They won't send you to Alcatraz, Blaze."

That didn't seem likely. Given everything you'd done, you had to be pretty high up on SHIELD's list now. You were surprised that they had sent Natasha to collect you, actually, after your last few encounters had ended with her empty handed. Failure, especially repeated failure, and with a high level 'threat' was not tolerated by HQ. 

"Does Fury know you're here?"

"Probably."

"When you said they won't send me to The Annex…"

"You've pissed off a lot of people recently, Blaze. The team that they've put together to find you… they always neutralise the threat. It's a shoot first, ask questions later mentality. The best case scenario is that they take you in and send you to The Raft. Maybe the Cube if you're lucky." 

The mere mention of that place was enough to dry up the sharp retort on your lips. Your bravado only extended so far. Sure, you'd broken out of their other facilities but if those high up decided that they had really had enough of you and sent you there? You'd never see the light of day again. 

"I'd rather they shoot me."

"Be serious for once, Blaze. Please."

You grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, until your lips were practically touching. "I am being serious, Natasha. I will not let them put me away to rot in The Raft. It would be kinder to put a bullet straight through my head."

"I won't let that happen."

"What other option is there? They will keep chasing me until I'm dead or locked up. I will never go back to them." 

"Reconsider."

"No. You don’t know what I know. Why are you even here, Agent Romanoff?" She flinched at the harsh tone, drawing back immediately. This was better, you decided. It was easier this way, kinder to her in the long run. "You came all this way, against the orders of your superiors, interfered with an active investigation and for what?"

"You know why."

"Then say it."

Natasha lowered her gaze, a broken smile crossing her lips. She pulled herself together, or at least presented the facade of doing so, and set her hand on your knee, the gentle touch sending sparks across your skin. "You know why I can't."

You sat that way for a while, her fingers trailing soft, swooping patterns across your skin. It was cruel, really, keeping you here like this. You should have learned after Paris that her only allegiance was to SHIELD but you couldn't make yourself leave. At some point, your head ended up on her shoulder and your fingers wove together comfortably in her lap. 

An almost silent admission, you breathed. "I don't know what to do."

"You've never lied to me before, Blaze. Don't start now." 

It was funny. No matter how much she came to trust you, Natasha, a master of lies and deception, never seemed able to separate truth from fiction when it came to you. You weren't sure whether to be proud or offended. Pushing yourself upright, you hid your uncertainties behind a stiff smile. "I meant what I said. I won't go back to SHIELD but I don't think I can run for much longer."

"I've got a safe house in the Bahamas. You can rest up there and make a decision when you're healed."

Your gut reaction was to accept and let Natasha whisk you away, the memories of your last stay in a secret hideout still strong in your memory. That gave way to fear, though, as you considered how you would essentially be trapped and at her mercy. Not necessarily a bad thing but in this particular situation… 

Shaking your head, you freed your hand from hers and gripped the edge of the worktop above to pull yourself up. "I think I need to be alone to figure that out."

"No more crime, Blaze. I can't protect you if you go off the rails again."

"That suggests that I have been on them some time these past years." 

"SHIELD are watching all the roads out of here. You won't get through the blockades without a pass."

That wouldn't be a problem. Your escape route featured a long trek through the mountains and a private helicopter to take you somewhere far away - again. "I appreciate your concern but I'll be fine."

Gathering your bag from beneath the stairs, you slung a new, thicker coat over your burnt and tattered clothes. The heavy fabric sat uncomfortably against your scorched skin but thankfully the nerves were still too fried for it to really hurt. The majority of your current discomfort was specifically emotional. 

Natasha shadowed you as you left the little house for the final time. She caught your arm and said softly, "Blaze, please don't be the villain they all think you are."

"I don't care what they think about me." Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sighed. This would do you absolutely no favours with either side but you couldn't leave without giving her something in return for not taking you straight to Fury. "Luka's brother is planning a job next week. His buddies got their hands on Chitauri crystals and have been working on new weapons. They plan on making a statement in that ugly ass bank in Hong Kong."

"I'll make sure they're stopped."

"You'd better. If I'm going to end up on their bad side, it needs to be for a good cause."

"Give me a call," Natasha said, shoving her hands into her pockets. "When you get somewhere safe, I mean. Or when you make a decision. Or… If you just want to chat. You've got my private line."

You pressed a light kiss to her cheek and carried your heavy body across the field without another word.


	9. Chapter 9

SHIELD headquarters hadn’t changed in the years since you’d last walked through those large, imposing doors. Of course a fair amount of cosmetic work had been done to cover the scars of past terrorist attacks and HYDRA shootouts but the machine still ran the same way regardless of how it was painted. 

The architecture was bright and light but the atmosphere remained oppressive despite that. The crushing weight of lies and secrets pressed heavily against your chest, an uncomfortable reminder as to why you’d left SHIELD in the first place. Around you, though, others moved oblivious from one place to the next, blissfully unaware of the dark underbelly of their grand cause.

Agents hurried between briefing rooms and offices like ants, carrying files stuffed with unimportant reports. On the rare occasion that they actually had something important to transport, they moved in pairs. One agent clinging to a locked briefcase (or hiding a small USB on their person if it was really worth reading) while their partner walked alongside them, a few steps back, eyes peeled for any possible threats. 

Clearly training had gone downhill since you worked here as none of the agents so much as gave you a second look. They disregarded your out of date SHIELD uniform as friendly without taking a moment to consider that the scratched and burnt logo on your arm hid something far more dangerous. Amateurs. To think that these were the people entrusted with the protection of the planet. 

Not a single security camera turned your way, the dull eagle on your shoulder providing an incredible camouflage. If you’d known that all it would take to infiltrate the organisation was an old jacket and an air of confidence, you might have tried it years ago. Sadly, entertaining as that might be, it wasn’t why you’d made the trek out there today. 

You strode into the centre of the large entrance hall and sat at the foot of the large SHIELD logo statue. Folding your hands in your lap as you watched the cogs in the machine move around you, a familiar warmth spread through your body. You focused on the light inside you, blew on the embers and watched them grow into a raging fire. 

The heat tickled your skin as the giant stone statue behind you burst into flames, casting a beautiful orange glow across the marble tiles that lined the lobby. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, it was almost poetic. Here you were, stepping through the flames of the past and into a bright, potentially brief, future. It was tremendously exciting.

It took them exactly forty three seconds to amass their soldiers. You sat patiently the entire time, a smile on your face when they finally surrounded you. Guns of multiple origins (some noticeably old HYDRA weapons; those clunky calibres just were instantly recognisable) pointed at your face, your chest, even your foot - the poor newbie simply didn’t have the heart to take a lethal shot, a quality you actually admired. 

Before they could get closer, you commanded the flames to engulf you in a protective ring. A wall of fire that had them scuttling backwards to safety, put a decent distance between you all. With a small flick of your hand, unnecessary but worth the dramatics to see their faces pale, the flaming wall lowered until it was but a glowing red line on the ground. 

One courageous, if stupid, soldier dared to step forward but leapt back as the flames erupted in his face. You were careful not to burn him but the warning was perfectly clear. No one else was brave enough to test you after that. 

You lounged against the cool metal statue, the tip of the eagle’s feathers still glowing as bright embers danced along the edges, and met the trembling gaze of the young agent with the gun aimed at your foot. Oh, you had forgotten how fun it was to play this role, to hold all the cards and be in complete control. So many months now you’d spent on the back foot, running from SHIELD’s dogs and hiding in the shadows. How the winds changed. 

Curling a finger, you urged him to step forward. The circle of flames opened up just wide enough to let the young agent through, each trembling step less confident than the one before. He stopped the moment he was inside your flaming wall, mere seconds from reconsidering and fleeing, when you muttered, “I won’t hurt you. I just have a message I need you to help me pass on.”

“What… What is the message?” he asked, edging forward, drawn to you like a moth. His eyes were wide, awed by the halo of flames above your head. You wondered, in other circumstances, whether these weak wannabe soldiers could ever have seen you as a hero. You’d seen the way they looked at Avengers like Thor, a literal god, and other superpowered beings. There was a similar fear in their eyes now, a compliment if ever you’d seen one. 

The agents outside the ring of fire cocked their weapons when you jumped to your feet, the sharp clicks echoing around the large hall. Aside from the gentle crackle of your flames, the entire lobby was silent. Every CCTV camera was locked on you now and you gave the nearest a little wave, hoping that they were watching. 

You closed the gap between you and the young agent, the sharp scent of his cheap aftershave and sweat (heat or fear induced, you could only guess) clogging your nostrils. Trailing a finger down his cheek, you felt him tense against your rough pads. Aware of how quickly fear could inspire rash action, you slid your hand down his arm and plucked the gun from his hand. He made no attempt to stop you, merely flinched as it burst into flames behind you. 

Voice low enough to be hidden beneath the soft crackle of fire, you muttered, “I want to speak to Fury.”

“I don’t have clearance to organise a meeting with the director,” the agent breathed, cowering from your charred flesh on his cheek. 

Suddenly this wasn’t so fun anymore. It was all well and good lauding your power over these trigger happy agents but the way they glared at you, the fear and hatred in their eyes… You might once have taken enjoyment from it but now it left you feeling hollow. With a deep sigh, you turned your back on the other agents and said soothingly to the boy, “I know. I just need you to sit tight here for a bit until he comes to rescue you. You’ll want to stand pretty still because the flames get quite hot.”

“What -”

His question was lost as a tube of flames burst up around him. It was a tight circle, close enough that the fire licked his skin and singed the seams of his jacket, but you were careful to control the temperature. So long as he did what you said and stayed still, no real harm would come to him. The other agents didn’t know that though and a round of insults and orders suddenly flew your way.

“Oh, do shut up,” you groaned, stepping away from the bright red fire. Patting yourself on the back at the impressive illusion of torturing an innocent man, ignoring the tightness in your chest, you threw a fireball at the nearest cluster of armed agents and had to hold back a laugh as they jumped away like scared little frogs. 

You climbed up the eagle statue, pulling yourself up the wings until you perched on the top of its flat head. The metal was warm but you barely felt the heat, accustomed to far worse when you wielded your powers. Legs swinging over the edge as you stared down at the twitching soldiers you yelled, “Fury! I know you’re listening. Come and face me before your sweet little recruit burns to death. Quickly quickly, Director! You’ve got two minutes.”

“Blaze.”

The crowd of agents parted to reveal Natasha, a distinctly angry expression on her face. It was beautiful, honestly. She was close enough for the flames to illuminate her pale skin, the reflection of the heat bringing a gorgeous blush to her cheeks. Her dark hair shone with the fire, framing her face in the most spectacular way. 

“Afternoon, Agent Romanoff. Lovely day we’re having, isn’t it?”

Her eyes narrowed, finger actually twitching against the trigger of her pistol. You were ninety percent sure that she wouldn’t shoot you but you couldn’t take the risk. All it took was a brief thought for the grip to overheat and she dropped the weapon instantly. More irritated than anything else, she said through gritted teeth, “Get off the statue, Blaze.”

“You’re no fun,” you groaned, leaping from the eagle’s head and landing in the way you’d seen her so many times. A sharp pain shot up your legs and you hissed, grateful for the cover of the nearby flames. How did she do that without breaking her knees? 

Fingers dancing through the flames which surrounded the young agent, you walked slowly to the edge of your fire wall (absolutely nothing to do with the intense pain of landing awkwardly) and stood in front of Natasha. Despite the circumstances, you felt a peace at being near her again. “Missed you, dear.”

“Stop it. Let the hostage go and we can talk properly.”

“Hostage? Oh please.”

_“Blaze.”_

You threw your hands in the air and the cool flames behind you vanished into thin air, the only proof they’d ever been there a smoky scent in the air and a few, tiny patches of burnt fabric on the back of the boy’s jacket. He instantly jumped out of your protective circle, willing to risk actual injury in order to get away from you. Too quickly he was surrounded by fellow agents and swallowed back into the mass of faces so you never got to see where he went or how well he had actually fared inside your temporary prison. 

Natasha shot you another look and you rolled your eyes, releasing your hold on your powers completely. She had you in handcuffs immediately, although you caught her hesitation; it was almost like she wanted you to put up a fight. That wasn’t part of the plan, though, so you simply nodded towards your bag and said, “Grab that for me, love? Can’t talk to Fury without that.”

“Thomason, get the bag.”

“No,” you said sharply. “No one touches it but you or I.”

She said nothing but you felt her breath against the back of your neck as she exhaled, forcefully enough to convey her irritation once more. Natasha did, however, pick up your bag herself. Backed up by three large, gun carrying brutes - unnecessary, seeing how you weren’t ever going to hurt her - Natasha led you through the SHIELD facility down to the interrogation rooms. 

“What the hell was that?” she hissed as the doors to the lift slid shut. 

“I wanted to make an entrance.”

"You certainly did that.“

In the drearily lit hallway, Natasha turned to the men and said, "I’ve got it from here, boys. Send a message to Fury: she’s in room two.”

“He really doesn’t want to see me, does he?”

“Do you blame him?”

You shrugged as she flashed her ID card against a scanner and pushed you inside the cell. It was empty save for a metal table, bolted to the ground, and two chairs, also screwed into the concrete below. Without a closer look you couldn’t say for certain but you suspected that not even Hulk would be able to tear them from the ground. There were no windows, no two sided mirrors. Just concrete walls with badly scrubbed, blood stained cracks and dents littering the surface. 

There was something almost nostalgic about it. Compared to the incredible tech that ran the building above, this was a throwback to the early days of SHIELD. Back when security systems could be hacked with a paperclip and information was extracted through well placed punches. There was nothing here that could be used forged into a makeshift weapon but then you didn’t exactly need to look elsewhere for a deadly tool, not when you were capable of such destruction on your own. 

A brief glance to the corners of the room confirmed your suspicions that you were truly alone; only one CCTV camera, which was currently switched off. The mere moment that thought registered in your mind, Natasha slammed you against the nearest wall, capturing your mouth in an intense kiss. 

Her lips were sweet as honey, her fingers hard as she shoved you into the cold stone. Natasha all but lifted you off the ground and you wasted no time in wrapping your legs around her waist. A hand squeezed your ass as she rolled her hips with yours, drinking you in like you were the last drop of water in the desert. 

Lost in her embrace, the intensity of her kiss, the dingy room faded to nothing. All that mattered was Natasha, her frantic touch as she proved to herself over and over again that you were here, that you were safe and in one piece after weeks apart. 

Barely breaking the kiss but unable to stay away, desperately kissing you between each word, fingers slipping beneath your jacket, needing to feel your skin against hers, Natasha murmured, “God, I’ve missed you.”

You slid your hands up her sides and cupped her cheeks - as best you could in handcuffs - a dangerous swell of affection forming in your chest when she leant into your touch. So at odds with the way the agent upstairs had flinched away; there was not a hint of fear in her body. Natasha’s eyes flickered shut as you traced your charred skin across hers, pulling her in for another, desperate kiss while you still could. 

It was her that broke it, all too soon. You reached for her hands but she brushed them away, a flicker of that early annoyance returning. Her forehead furrowed, she shoved your shoulder and twisted free from your tight embrace. “You promised no one would get hurt.”

“Did he look burnt?" 

"You probably scarred the poor boy for life!”

“Everyone is already scared of fire, love. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

She rolled her eyes but you knew you’d won when she kissed you again, and again. God, these past few weeks had felt too long. You hadn’t seen her since she bandaged you up in Russia but had kept in contact with her as you considered your options. It had been on a long, drunken evening when the solution came to you and naturally Natasha was the first person you told. 

Stupid, reckless, dangerous were but a few words she’d used to describe your idea but it hadn’t taken long to win her around. This was the only way you could get the life, the freedom, you wanted and she knew it. 

Despite that, though, Natasha still took a moment to ask, “Are you sure that you want to do this?”

You nodded, long since set on this course. “This is the best chance I’ve got to avoid spending the rest of my life in The Raft. I’m going to take it.”

“Just don’t antagonise him, okay?”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

_“Blaze.”_

“Will you stop saying my name like that? It makes me want to bend you over that table and have my wicked way with you.”

Natasha shoved you away, too slow to hide the smile on her face. She sat you down in one of the chairs and handcuffed you to the table, her fingers lingering over your wrist where the scars of the golden Serpent’s Claw remained. They had healed over well, in no small part to the unorthodox procedures of your less than squeaky clean doctor friend, but the marks were permanently etched into your skin. In certain lights they still shimmered gold, tiny fragments of the metal impossible to remove. 

As Natasha traced the swirling line, connected it to other old scars and marks, you didn’t feel so much like a lab experiment. You didn’t feel broken or ruined. Natasha saw past the damage, understood the awful things you had done in the name of saving others. You had opened yourself up to her and instead of drawing back or fleeing for her life, she stuck around because she understood. Perhaps better than anyone else in the world. 

She stole a final kiss before pressing herself against the back corner of the cell, watching you with an intensity that should not have flared your desire but did nonetheless. Her focus, her strength, were intoxicating. Sensing as much, Natasha warned, “Stay focused, love. You only get one shot at this.”

Not a moment later, Fury swanned in and the light atmosphere darkened instantly. In the corner of your eye you caught Natasha straighten up, a blank expression falling over her face. You realised then just how open she was with you, compared to the utterly unreadable mask she wore around everyone else - even the man who had put his trust in her and helped her build a new life here at SHIELD. 

Fury was as good as Natasha at hiding behind a mask, although his was not one of indifference. He much preferred to hide behind intimidation and there was no denying that the director was an incredibly imposing man. The door clicked shut behind him, his boots heavy on the concrete, black coat creaking as he sat down opposite you.

“What do you want?”

“I don’t even get a hello? You really should work on your manners, Director.”

_“Blaze.”_

 _“Natasha,”_ you responded in an equally churlish tone. You turned your attention back to Fury, who watched the two of you with something akin to concern. If you didn’t know better, you might have almost called it fear. He thought you’d corrupted her. While not entirely inaccurate, you were surprisingly relieved to say that you’d failed just enough to keep Natasha on the right side of the line. 

Leaning forwards, you propped your elbows on the table and grinned at the Director. You kept a casual air because you had to. Everyone in this room knew how important this conversation was, that the repercussions and fallout from it had the potential to be incredibly high, but you wouldn’t allow that pressure to derail you. Fury had to see that you were in control here and shrinking beneath his unyielding gaze would do you no favours. 

“It’s all in the bag.” You nodded towards the corner of the room, where Natasha had dropped your sack before that tremendous kiss against the wall. “Everything that I have on Project Ashes.”

You would never have risked playing cards with Fury. He was far too difficult to read. However, in the dimly flickering light of the cell, you saw the tight press of his lips and the twitch of his fingers before he nodded for Natasha to bring him the bag. Those tiny tells were all you needed to reassure yourself that this could actually work. As she set the bag on the table and drew back, Natasha met your gaze and you knew she had come to the same conclusion too. 

Fury pulled the files from the bag and spread them across the desk. It had taken years to amass this much information on the less than sanctioned operations surrounding Ashes. Reaching back years to when you still worked for SHIELD, the first reports were vague and unconvincing - little more than redacted names in wider, unimportant files - but that had been enough to disenchant you with the organisation in the first place. The spark which ignited your intense distrust of everything SHIELD stood for. 

After you’d fled their grasp and begun to dig deeper the trail had led you all around the world in search for information. What you’d found had never seemed enough to build a case until that drunken night when the link had finally revealed itself to you. It also confirmed to you that your suspicions about SHIELD’s morals were, at least in part, correct; they were as willing as you to do terrible things for the ‘greater good’ and Fury had, over the years, made friends with some incredibly dangerous and suspect people.

Beneath your own investigation files was a thin brown folder, containing only one sheet of paper. The rest had long since been destroyed but Fury recognised its importance immediately. His gaze flickered to Natasha, who gave nothing away, but somehow he found all the answers he needed in her silence. There was only one place that these reports could have come from and she was one of an incredibly select group of agents with access to that room. 

Shoving the papers back at you, Fury folded his arms over his chest and said, “You want to make a deal, then.”

“You’re smarter than I remember, Director.”

“Get on with it, then.”

“I am tired of running. I’m sick of helping HYDRA sympathisers and working with idiots that want to bring about the end of the world. In return for all my files on Ashes and names and locations of other people you’re hunting, I want my file name struck from SHIELD’s hit list and your personal guarantee that I will not end up in The Raft.”

It wasn’t an unreasonable demand, in your opinion. Project Ashes would cause Fury a lot of problems if details of the unauthorised weapons stockpiling and collaboration with certain unsavoury groups and individuals came out. The UN would be pissed at best, the World Council would have his balls on a silver platter for revealing details of their private plans and he could lose everything he had built here. Your freedom in return for keeping your mouth shut seemed perfectly fair. 

“Your cooperation now would not undo what you’ve done.”

“And what is it that she’s really done, Nick?” Natasha asked, stepping forward. She placed her hands on your shoulders, thumbs digging gentle circles into the tight knots on your back, slowly working the tension from your body as she did what she did best: manipulate and manoeuvre pieces into place. “Everywhere Blaze goes, every job she does, ends with one less enemy weapons facility for us to watch, a group of villains in custody or a few rich bastards without one of many streams of illicit income. Regardless of what we may think of her methods, they certainly have their advantages.”

“SHIELD does not support vigilantes.”

“That’s not entirely true, though, is it, Director?” you asked, staring pointedly at the files on the table. “Look, I’m not asking for much. I just want my freedom.”

“To do what, exactly? Play house with Romanoff?”

While that certainly didn’t sound like a terrible idea, you knew that wasn’t what he was driving at. For all his irritation, it was clear that Fury wasn’t overly bothered by your relationship with Natasha. If that had been the case, he wouldn’t have allowed her to stay in the room with you, wouldn’t have continued to send her out into the field to chase you. No, he was fishing for something and you knew precisely what he wanted to hear.

That didn’t mean you wanted to say it, though. 

“I won’t do your dirty work, Director. I will not be SHIELD’s muscle for hire.”

“Then how, exactly, am I going to benefit from this arrangement in any way?”

You smiled, having thought that through long and hard. “Aside from sweeping Ashes under the carpet? Turn a blind eye to my endeavours and I am willing to share any and all information I gather regarding our shared enemies. If it happens that my goals align with yours, I’ll get rid of the threat for us both.”

It was immensely clear that Fury did not want to agree to your conditions however his gaze kept returning to the SHIELD file on the table and you realised that Ashes was a far larger bargaining chip than you had ever imagined. Whatever you had uncovered must be the tip of the iceberg if he was this keen to hush it up. He didn’t really care either way what you got up to so long as it didn’t reflect badly on him and no one got hurt - at least, no one who didn’t deserve it. 

Sensing her opening, Natasha jumped in and said, “There is precedence for cases like Blaze. In the past, SHIELD has allowed certain individuals to continue on their own path so long as they report in regularly and liaise with a nominated agent.”

“So you want to be her handler?”

“Effectively, yes. I can control Blaze in a way that no one else in SHIELD is capable of and under my supervision I can ensure that her targets are no one of great importance to our work.”

You turned your face towards hers and, eyebrow raised, whispered, “Control?”

“Hush, love.” Natasha’s lips twitched but she bit back the smile as she focused on her boss. “She’s walking out of here either way, Nick. At least this way no one will get hurt.”

“Is that a threat, Romanoff?”

“No. It’s a fact.”

The atmosphere was, surprisingly, still rather light. In any other circumstances, their staring contest would have left you on the edge of your seat, nervously drawing on your powers as you waited for the worst possible outcome. However, instead, you felt an ease between them as if this wasn’t the first time the pair had negotiated something so intensely. 

That relaxed nature in itself made you anxious. It shouldn’t be so peaceful. It wasn’t even the calm before the storm; something in their expressions made you certain that an agreement had already been reached. You were simply at their mercy, hanging on for dear life as you awaited your sentence. 

Fury rose from the chair and strode towards the door. Back turned to you, he grunted, “Romanoff, my office. Bring the files and we’ll discuss the terms of your handlership. Once that’s over, get Blaze as far away from here as humanly possible and pray that I never hear her name again.”

Absolute joy flowed through you, overwhelmed you like a blinding light. It had worked. You had your life, your chance to keep making a difference but under Natasha’s careful guidance. Everything you’d wanted from the start; freedom to help on your own terms, to be a force against greed and selfishness, a champion to fight in the corner of the downtrodden when there was no one else around.

Okay, so that sounded a bit grand and over dramatic even to you. But it was the truth. 

As Natasha unlocked your handcuffs, her fingers brushed against yours and she whispered, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I can wait,” you said, swinging your legs up onto the table. You ignored her pointed attempt to knock your feet off, instead wrapping a hand around her neck and pulling her down for a victorious kiss. “And anyway, you don’t control me.”

“You want me to lock you back up and see if you feel the same way then?”

“Oh, darling, we’ve tried that already. Why don’t you let me chain you up instead?”

Natasha licked her lips, her beautiful green eyes glazing over slightly at the image. She stole another brief kiss then repeated her earlier sentiment, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

You could hardly wait.


	10. Chapter 10

For an organisation that supposedly recruited the absolute best scientists and technologists in the world, AIM’s soldiers were dreadfully under prepared to come up against you. As you ducked the misplaced punch of a larger brute, twisting out of the rubber gloved grasp of another lackey, you shot a medium strength fireball at the pair and watched as their supposedly fireproof suits burst into flames. 

They scrambled back behind the wall of shielded soldiers, manically patting at the flames which you had already put out, their desperate cries almost comical. You forgot about them the second they disappeared from view, though, far more concerned by the large, automated weaponry now targeted directly at you. 

Drawing on speed and agility you saved for occasions like this, and made the horrendous workouts with Natasha worth it (some workouts were amazing, especially when your gorgeous spy wore those tight fitting leggings and teased you endlessly, but you were referring to the ones where she had you run laps and lift weights until your muscles cried), you sprinted through the abandoned base. A shield of fire behind you kept the worst of their bullets from hitting their mark but a few pierced through the flames and grazed dangerously close to your vitals. 

In completely the wrong direction to where you were meant to be heading, you swerved into an empty room and slammed the door behind you. A quick search of the room revealed no other door but in the corner there was a tile on the ceiling that didn’t quite sit straight. Faith that the universe was on your side all you had now, you set that as your escape route. However, with the AIM soldiers already approaching, you knew there wasn’t enough time to melt the lock so you simply blockaded the door with a chair and table and prayed that it would give you an adequate window to get away. 

You burned the panel to ashes before you’d even crossed the room and hauled yourself up into the vents. It was a tight squeeze and the cool metal pressed against your skin as you pulled your knees beneath you and started to crawl through the dark space. Reminding yourself that you absolutely weren’t claustrophobic and that this was absolutely safe and destined to work, you followed the red wire above your head, hoping that it would guide you to the central chamber where the power source was being kept. 

Unfortunately, as you had come to expect from your awful luck on SHIELD sanctioned missions (a rare thing in itself, considering what else you did on the side), you soon found yourself completely lost. You fumbled around in the dark for a few minutes longer before deciding that your chances were better out in the open where you could at least see versus staying stuck in this tiny little duct.

Drawn to a particular panel by an invisible force, you burned it away and quietly lowered yourself into a dark room full of computers and filing cabinets. Hidden behind a desk, you summoned a small fireball in preparation for the intruder as the lock on the far door clicked open. Instead of the heavy boots of the AIM soldier you expected, you heard light, quiet steps which you knew oh so well. 

You popped up from your hiding place and saw Natasha, her distinct silhouette framed against the bright light from the hallway. Behind her, the wide, creaking frame of a soldier who had no doubt been guarding this area. Almost in slow motion, he drew a weapon, a large rifle which would burn a hole through Natasha’s chest, and cocked it ready to shoot. 

“Get down!" 

Natasha followed your order without question, without even having known that you were there until that very moment. Out of the path of the soldier’s rifle, she was still in danger but you were already moving into place to help her. You simultaneously shielded her from the sparking and exploding wires overhead (your initial entrance had apparently had a negative effect on the systems around the rest of the compound), directing the burning flames in a perfect dome around her crouched figure, and disarmed the AIM soldier.

The barrel of his rifle glowed red, orange, all the way through to white, and scorched his useless fireproof get up. The acrid smell of artifical fibres melting and burning stung your nose and brought tears to your eyes but it was worth it to watch the pathetic toy soldier scramble away into the shadows to regroup with his team and fetch reinforcements. 

"Blaze? What’s your status?” Natasha’s call echoed around the office block, balanced somewhere between relief and annoyance that this was where she’d found you. Her beautiful red locks peered out from behind the desk and you hopped across the tabletops towards her. 

"I’m good.“

You placed your hand in hers, accepting the unnecessary but romantic gesture of support as you jumped down to the ground. Natasha pulled you into a tight embrace and held you close against her chest for a long moment. Her heart was hardly racing but the beat was noticeably faster than usual; the only real sign that she was in anyway affected by stumbling into a literal warzone. 

Unsurprised when she shoved you away, you stood stoically as she launched into a hundred reasons why you were in trouble this time. "It’s been days since you last checked in and I thought you’d been made! You know how Fury gets when you don’t send in his reports and this is the third communique that you’ve missed this month. And then when I saw that this place was on fire? For once, could you try to complete a capture without burning the base down?”

"Missed you too, Tash. Do you fancy Chinese or pizza for dinner tonight?“

She rolled her eyes but you felt the air shift between you as she slipped from Agent Romanoff back to Natasha, the woman you loved. You caught a few strands of her hair between your fingers and sighed at the burnt, black lengths. You’d been so careful not to catch her in the flames; you must be slipping. 

Natasha didn’t seem to mind, though. She simply pulled a small dagger from her boot and sliced the burnt ends off. A wicked grin on her face, she pressed the sharp tip of the blade against your lower lip and then drew the cool metal across your cheek with just enough pressure to make your heartrate spike. "I should make you pay for all the trouble you cause me, Blaze.”

"I’d like to see you try.“

"Do you really want to test me while I’m annoyed with you?”

You gave a little pout, considering that these were potentially the best moods to catch Natasha in if you wanted some fun, however it seemed to have little effect on the spy. Accepting defeat, you groaned, “Fine, but later, yeah?”

"Can you be serious for once?“

"Ask nicely.”

Natasha narrowed her gaze, the unspoken warning clear. However, never quite able to resist you completely, she said, “Please be serious.”

"If you really meant it, you’d get on your knees.“

It wasn’t a hard shove but you loved the dramatics so rolled backwards over the nearest desk and clutched your shoulder, the flames that licked the walls trembling as you pulled yourself to your feet. "You’re so mean. And also no. I won’t be serious because it’s incredible boring and you know what happens when I get bored.”

You gestured to the burning building around you, remembering for the first time since Natasha arrived that you were actually in some kind of trouble. You wouldn’t go so far as to say that it was mortal danger seeing how you had escaped from far worse situations but a building on the brink of collapse with a squad of AIM soldiers on the other side of the compound, desperate to get their grubby hands on some new alien tech, did class as perilous at least. 

With a dismissive wave of your hands you were able to distinguish all the smaller fires around you. As much as you wanted to stand around and flirt with Natasha, you did, sadly, still have a job to do here. Plucking the blade from her hand, you smiled at how the handle of the blade shimmered, the veins within the inlaid black opal a constant reminder of your firey nature when you weren’t around.

More than that, though, you recalled just how pleased Natasha had been when you’d gifted it to her on your anniversary; the memories of that particularly exploratory night where well etched into your mind and had gotten you through a many number of lonely nights.

It didn’t take long to jimmy open the nearest files cabinet, what with the metal already distorted in the heat, and you fingered through the folders in search for the reports you needed to expose a group of corrupt politicians. That wasn’t your mission - Fury only wanted you to collect the powersource and get out - but you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to gather more intel on a group of people you’d been tailing for months. No doubt their names were expunged from the contents but at least it would provide you with a few more leads for the future. 

Natasha hovered by the doorway to keep guard and warn of AIM’s return but spent most of the time watching you. You wondered, vaguely, whether she’d known you would break orders and make your way to the records office or if she had her own secret orders to gather intelligence too. Maybe it was just a happy coincidence but you’d long since stopped believing in those. No, she knew you too well. 

"Are you wearing that pretty black bra under that?“

Your fingers froze as you flicked through the files before continuing on, a smirk tugging at your lips. Things certainly had changed. You could hardly believe that Natasha had ever tried to hide her interest in you or that you had ever thought that having her as your official handler would change anything. How wrong you were in thinking that she would be content to submit all the time; her dominant side came out strongly whenever you were in the field together and it would be the biggest lie of them all to say that you didn’t love the challenge. 

"Working, love.”

"Talk and work at the same time, then. Come on. I want to know.“ At your silence, she added, "Do I need to pull rank?”

A fantasy for another time, you relented, “Yes, I am.” You looked up from the drawer of so far useless folders and asked, “And you, Agent Romanoff? What are you wearing underneath that remarkably well fitting uniform of yours?”

"Write your reports and maybe you can find out. If you come to the debrief.“

"I hate you.”

"Love you too, sweetheart.“

Finally finding the project name you were after, you rolled the file up and shoved it into a pocket inside your jacket. You dropped the blade back in Natasha’s hands as you strode past her, out into the empty corridor, and turned on your heels, walking backwards as she followed. "When you say debrief, do you mean one of those dreadful meetings with Fury where he tells me how bad I’ve been or the fun kind of debriefing that happens in broom cupboards where you tell me how bad I’ve been?”

"That depends. Are there any broom cupboards in the base that aren’t on fire?“

You sighed. "No.”

Natasha’s grin widened. “In that case, I guess you’ll have to wait until we get back to the Quinjet then.”

Your cheeks grew warm as you recalled the last ‘debriefing’ in a Quinjet, and the absolute mess you had made of the cockpit. However, before you could muster a response, Natasha threw you against a concrete wall and shielded your body with hers. It took you less than a second to flip the stance so that you were protecting her, able to sense the incoming wall of fire and protect you both from it’s flaming jaws as the inferno blazed mercilessly past you. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss AIM’s technology. This was certainly an effective weapon and doing a remarkably good job at draining you of your energy. 

Brushing your lips against Natasha’s, the light distraction of her sweet taste on your tongue enough to stop you thinking too hard about how hot your back was getting, you pressed your body flush against hers and swore as the flames around you refused to relent. “What is this? Some kind of fucking sentient napalm?”

"Can you hold it back?“

"What do you think I’m doing, Nat?” you asked through gritted teeth. 

She shot you a sharp look but you were too focused on keeping the demon fire back. Somehow, it was actively fighting your powers and each second you fought it exhausted your already depleted supply of energy. At best, you would be able to maintain the bubble of air around you for thirty seconds more, a minute top. 

Sweat rolling down from your hairline, dripping uncomfortably down the front of your jacket in an almost constant stream of exertion now, you hissed, “Tell me SHIELD sent you in here with something to stop the alien tech?”

"I have permission to blow it up, if necessary.“

That wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear because, loosely translated, it meant that she had jack shit. Meeting her gaze, your throat grew tight at the mess of emotions staring back at you. Your heart swelled at the unyielding trust Natasha had in you, the deep fear over the toll your powers were visibly taking. It was all the more terrifying to harbour such feelings for another person than to face down a hoard of enemy fighters. 

With that in mind, you asked, "How far is the energy source from here?”

"It’s basically right below us, give or take a few metres.“

"I can work with that. Those explosives you’re only meant to use in an emergency? Toss them round the corner and blow a big ass hole in the floor.”

"But the explosion…“

"Can’t be worse than this never ending napalm. I’ll try and channel the energy and force downwards and maybe it we’re lucky it’ll set off a chain reaction with the source and blow this place to hell.”

"With us inside it!“ 

The flames licked at your ankles as the protective bubble wavered, shrinking in around you. Giving a new meaning to shared space, you tried to block her view of the ever nearing fire but failed miserably, the bright orange flames reflecting back at you, mocking your powerlessness in her gorgeous emerald eyes. 

"Darling, we don’t have time to argue.” Twisting yourself around so that your back was pressed to her chest, the living inferno roared in your face, it’s burning teeth gnawing at your skin as you fought to hold it back just a few seconds longer. “Throw it on three and get ready to run.”

Natasha whipped three tiny discs from her belt and double tapped the tops, a blue light signifying that they were now armed. She tossed the small explosives around the corner and you held your breath, waiting in the endless seconds that followed for a huge bang. 

What a big bang it was. The explosion rippled through the hallway, the initial blinding shockwaves knocking all the AIM soldiers to their feet and even pushing back some of the engineered inferno. Whichever AIM lackey was controlling them must have also faltered because the pressure against the inside of your skull lessened, your powers finally bursting out at full strength as you fought back the wall of flames. 

You grabbed Natasha’s hand and sprinted down the hallway, barely making it over the enormous hole in the ground. Behind you, a secondary explosion occurred, the harsh blast knocking you off your feet. It was a different kind of energy around you, one you couldn’t control - the power source was going critical; your plan had worked. 

Neither you nor Natasha were ready to celebrate, though. Quick to pull yourself back up, you ran towards the exit, persued by a few AIM soldiers who were more concerned with escaping the electric blue waves than gunning you down. 

There was no time to stop and breath in the fresh air as you fled the base. Natasha grabbed your elbow and guided you towards the east side of the compound, and relief as you had never felt it before swelled in your chest as the Quinjet came into view. 

You stumbled up the ramp, gasping at the change of atmosphere, but Natasha was remarkably unaffected. At least she pretended to be. Propped up against the walls of the jet, legs trembling, her fingers danced across the flight controls as she got the bird up in the air. Autopilot engaged immediately, lifting you both to safety just as the base below imploded. 

Sliding down the metal plates that lined the inside of the jet, you hit the floor with a loud crash and burst out laughing. You turned to your partner and grinned, a manic combination of fear and adrenaline pushing you over the terrifying hump that came with almost dying. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

"Learned from the best.“ Natasha collapsed in a heap beside you, an arm shaked around your waist to pull you in and her head rested comfortably on your shoulder. You sat that way for a long few moments, each taking the time to appreciate how lucky you were to have the other, to live this exciting life of danger and to share it with someone you loved. Two of the most lethal people on the planet, absolute sops around eachother. Wasn’t that always the way?

Always the first to regain her composure, Natasha asked, "Are you hurt?”

Your clothes were singed and ash clung to your sweaty skin. Your sugar levels were uncomfortably low and you were fairly sure you’d fractured a rib in the explosion but aside from that you had escaped relatively unharmed. Offering up your assessment, Natasha was quick to do the same and you were relieved to hear that she too was in almost perfect health. 

"In that case,“ Natasha said, shifting her legs beneath her into a position that, from this angle, looked remarkably like she was begging. "I think you and I need should get straight to that debrief.”

"You gonna tell me I’ve been bad?“

"You’ve always been bad for me, Blaze.”

"Oh, darling, you know you love it.“ You lifted a hand to her face, no longer fearful to touch her perfect skin with your marred and burnt fingertips. How could you hate yourself when Natasha literally glowed when you touched her? She found beauty and peace and love in your scars and helped you to see that too. "I knew from day one that you were the kind of woman that got her kicks by playing with fire. Danger turns you on.”

Natasha grew unexpectedly serious, her entire face hardening with genuine set honesty. “You know it’s more than that.”

"Say it, then.“ Her gaze dropped and you said, barely a whisper, "Please?”

"I love you, Blaze.“

You captured her lips in a passionate kiss, embers dancing across your skin as she clawed at the singed hem of your shirt. She pulled it over your head as you unzipped her jacket with practised ease, a childish race to remove the other’s clothing first. Never breaking the kiss, you pushed Natasha to the ground and straddled her, grinding your hips against hers, the heady scent of sweat and sex filling the jet.

Hands roaming desperately over one another’s bodies, following lushous curves and navigating a map of scars you each knew by heart, she flipped you over and kissed you harder, drawing the words she needed to hear from the depths of your heart with expert fingers. "Blaze?”

There was no hesitation, not even a single second. “I love you too, Nat.”

She pressed her forehead against yours, her thumb brushing over the base of your neck, before she continued her exploration south and gave you a very thorough debriefing indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think :D  
> Come talk to me on tumblr!


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